


If That Mockingbird Won't Sing

by ArwenLalaith



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-06-27 09:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 24,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19788379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLalaith/pseuds/ArwenLalaith
Summary: Emily is in the last year of her Master's in Linguistics, working as a TA for her professor, Alex Blake, and also happens to be dating an international terrorist kingpin...and if things weren't complicated enough already, she's just found out she's pregnant.





	1. Chapter 1

"Hello?" Alex called out, knocking on the bathroom door. Instantly, the sobs echoing from within stopped. "Are you okay in there?"

The door flew open suddenly, causing Alex to stumble back a few steps in surprise. Emily emerged – eyes red and swollen – attempting to wipe away her tears before anyone could notice them. "Dr. Blake?" she yelped in surprise upon almost crashing into her teacher. She attempted a smile to ease her suspicions, hoping it didn't look half as fake as it felt.

"Emily? Are you okay?" Alex asked gently, reaching out to rest a hand on her upper arm, then realized it was a gesture she tended to use on victims and withdrew her hand quickly, lest Emily think she viewed her as weak.

"No! I – umm..." She wiped away another stray tear, hoping her insistence was more convincing than it seemed. She cared a lot about what the other woman thought of her, given she was both her teacher and her faculty advisor. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine," she insisted, concern creasing her brow. "Why don't you come up to my office?"

"No, really, I-I don't want to impose," she stammered, on the verge of tears again and not wanting to cry in front of her. "You've got office hours and I should be..."

Alex cut off her rambling excuses with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. "Come. Take some time to collect yourself."

Emily quirked a brow. "Is that your way of saying I look like shit?" she deadpanned, but followed the other woman's gentle lead with a soft, grateful smile.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Emily whispered, looking anywhere but at her. She was rarely one to share much of herself, least of all with someone whose opinion she valued so highly. Her fingers trembled around the mug of tea Alex passed her; she wasn't normally a tea drinker, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"You weren't in class today," Alex prompted, blowing steam from her own mug of tea, watching Emily over the rim.

"I was sick," she said too quickly, but not altogether untruthful.

Alex raised a brow, but didn't comment further on the obvious half-truth. "Emily," she said, purposely emphasizing her name, reaching across to rest a hand on top of hers, "If there's something you'd like to talk about..."

Emily bit down sharply on her bottom lip, eyes filling with tears again, and she cursed the emotions that were all too close to the surface at the moment, spilling forth with the slightest display of kindness.

Alex had never been the best when it came to overt displays of emotion, preferring to function behind the scenes, better with people's words than she was with people... But Emily clearly needed someone to talk to right now, so she chewed on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, waiting for Emily to open up to her.

Something about Alex's softly compassionate smile made something inside Emily crack and break. "I – umm," she paused, sighed, eyes lifting to the ceiling, confession spilling forth like water from a dam. "I'm pregnant."

"Judging by your reaction, I'm assuming congratulations aren't in order?" she said, then winced, wishing she'd said something a little more gracious. She tightened her grip on Emily's hand in apology.

Emily gave an unladylike snort, but made no move to pull away, physically or emotionally. "I guess you could say that."

"And the father?" Alex asked before realizing she might be prying.

"There is one," Emily said and that appeared to be all she was about to say on the matter.

"Would he be... _pleased_ with the news?"

She shrugged, but said in a half-answer, "He's made no secret of his desire for a big family..." Neither woman failed to pick up on the emphasis that it was _his_ desire...

"Have you considered what you're going to do?" Alex prompted, treading carefully lest Emily shut down.

Her laugh was a little hysterical, her hands shaking a hard enough to slosh tea onto her jeans as she tried to take a sip. "You mean, aside from freak out?" She flicked her tongue out over her top lip. "I can't raise a baby – I can barely support myself, even with my mother's help. I'll be applying to the Academy in the fall...how am I supposed to do that with an infant who's completely dependant on me? I can't do this, I can't..." She trailed off, hyperventilating a little, colour draining from her face.

Alex didn't tell her everything would be alright, knowing very well it might not be. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked once Emily's breathing had slowed again.

"Do you happen to know anyone who wants a baby?" Emily joked darkly because, even at a time like this, she couldn't resist being sarcastic.

Alex didn't respond, knowing it was mostly a joke. Mostly. "I can put you in contact with the guidance counsellor – she'll have more resources for you," she offered because it was all she could do.

Emily nodded once, twice, though her eyes were unfocused and she didn't seem to know what she was agreeing to. She dabbed absently at the tea stain on her jeans, long after it had dried.

"And if there's anything I can do...in terms of accommodating tests or..." She shrugged helplessly; she really wasn't very good at this.

"Thank you," Emily whispered. "Really."

"Do you have anyone you can talk to?"

She shrugged again, but didn't meet Alex's eyes. Alex knew what her evasion meant and before she knew what she was doing, she'd swept Emily up in a comforting embrace. Emily stiffened momentarily, surprised, then her entire body collapsed into Alex's arms with the suddenness of someone who was struggling to keep herself together.

For a moment, Alex tensed in discomfort as Emily sobbed into her shoulder – she couldn't remember the last time anyone had sobbed in her arms – but she swallowed it down as best she could, tightening her embrace because it was the only thing she had to offer.

Just as quickly, Emily pulled back as if suddenly realizing how far she'd extended herself beyond the brick wall she sheltered herself behind. "I'm sorry, that was...inappropriate. I should go."

"No, Emily, wait," Alex urged, reaching out to grab her wrist before she could flee and lock her emotions away like a rare bird that yearned to stretch its wings but would never again get the chance to fly.

Emily paused, turned, and there was no hiding the faintest glimmer of desperate sadness that shone in her eyes.

Alex faltered. "If...umm...if you need anything, I'll be here."

Emily bit down on her lip, trying to disguise the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Thanks," she murmured quietly, "It means a lot."

Alex let her hand drop, unsure why Emily's soft smile made her heart beat faster.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're awfully quiet tonight," James remarked.

"Hmm?" Alex looked up from where she was pushing her dinner around her plate distractedly, as if only just realizing he was there. She attempted a smile that she hoped wasn't quite as half-hearted as it felt, lest he mistake her inattention for her being upset with him.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, curious, inquisitive, as was his manner – like her emotions were something he could diagnose and cure.

"It's nothing," she said with a shake of her head and that slight smile again. When he said nothing, merely continuing to stare expectantly, she sighed, continued, "My TA...she's pregnant."

"That sounds like good news." He may have been intelligent, but sometimes he lacked the emotional insight into things such as this and it was such times that Alex couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a mistake in marrying him. Not that she didn't love him, he just wasn't always the most supportive person in the world and she feared one day that trait would come back to bite her.

"She's conflicted," she explained. "She's young and afraid. Unprepared and overwhelmed."

"Ah," he said with a nod. "The question is, why are you so troubled on her behalf?" he asked, perhaps a little judgementally and Alex felt the sudden need to defend Emily, though she bit down on the urge.

Instead, she chewed her lip for a moment, debating whether to speak her mind. "What if this is our chance?" she blurted out after a minute's thought. "We've talked about adoption for so long, what if this is the child we've been waiting for?" James was silent for so long, she felt her heart sink. "I mean, if you don't want... I just thought..."

"I'll think on it," he promised, reaching over to squeeze her hand with that smile that reminded her why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place.

* * *

"I'm _dying_ ," Emily groaned in between retches, the little she'd been able to eat that morning making a reappearance.

"I know, Love," Ian soothed, rubbing her back gently. "I know." She may have been acting dramatic, but he certainly wasn't about to tell her that when she still hadn't forgiven him for getting her pregnant in the first place...

"This is all your fault," she accused, glaring (though he couldn't see with her head hanging over the toilet bowl).

"I know," he echoed dutifully. Truthfully, while he hadn't _intentionally_ knocked her up, he wasn't all that upset about it – he knew she was the one he wanted by his side the rest of his life, but she was stubborn and didn't yet see the appeal in settling down...perhaps this would force her hand.

"What kind of idiot can't use a condom properly?" she continued griping, pausing only to wipe spittle off her lips with the back of her hand.

"Hey, now," he complained, " _You_ missed your pill..." He was cut off by her staring at him icily enough to give him frost bite. "Sorry..."

She retched again, then whimpered pitifully. "God, we were stupid," she muttered, more to herself than to him, "How did we let this happen?" Then, she lifted her head to look in his eyes, and said resolutely, "I think we need to put this baby up for adoption..."

"Adoption?" he repeated dumbly, blinking a few times at the announcement as if anticipating a punchline.

" _Yes_ ," she insisted sharply. "I'm still practically a kid, Ian. I can't raise a baby."

"I beg to differ..." His posture went rigid, the lines in his face hardening, and she knew she was in for an uphill battle...not that she had been expecting anything different.

"Ian..." she started, tone warning.

"I've seen you with children, Emily," he replied, voice level but with an edge, "You're good with them. I see no reason to think you wouldn't be an excellent mother."

She attempted a smile, but knew it was hollow. "It's not about that, Ian, I can't _provide_ for a baby right now – my meagre TA earnings go towards keeping a roof over my head and paying off my student loans. I can't afford diapers and formula."

"If you're having my child, you'll live with me," he replied, as if it were a given. "I'll provide for you and the child. We'll hire a nanny to look after the child until you graduate."

"And what about in the fall when I apply for the FBI Academy?" she challenged, not liking the way he seemed to have planned the rest of her life for her.

"It's too dangerous," he replied with a distasteful frown. She scoffed at the irony of that statement coming from an _arms dealer_ , but he ignored it. "You'll stay home with the children."

"Like hell I will," she snapped. She'd never been the stay-at-home mom type. "Let someone out there who _wants_ to do that, who wants to change diapers, nurse fevers, and go to PTA meetings do those things. Because right now, I _don't._ "

"I'm not about to give my flesh and blood to some stranger," he said, all ice and steel. "I lead warriors, Emily. I _raise_ warriors. This child wasn't meant to be some spoiled suburban brat..."

"I won't raise this child to lead your life." Her voice was just as cold, just as unyielding.

"Is it that bad a life?" he asked, seeming almost hurt by the insinuation.

"There are so many things I would do to make you happy..." She sighed, the fire behind her eyes gone, replaced by exhaustion. "But I won't do that."

He wasn't one to back down, though. "You're hormonal and emotional right now. Perhaps you'll have a clearer head tomorrow."

She lifted one brow, unamused. "Excuse me?"

"I just don't think we should be making any decisions while you aren't in your right mind." He said it gently, but there was a knife's edge behind the words.

"I think you should leave," she said, her tone becoming dangerous.

"Emily..." he started.

She didn't let him finish. " _Leave_ , Ian!"

He held up his hands in surrender, but didn't argue. He knew better than that.

With a weary sigh, she leaned back against the wall, head in her hands as the sound of the door slamming shut behind him echoed through the apartment. She didn't want to raise a child to live Ian's life – she may have loved him, but she had no disillusions about the kind of man he was. Why, then, did her heart feel like it was in a vice when she said the words aloud? Why did she feel like she was betraying Ian by giving his child away, even if it was to a better life?

In that moment, she wished she had a friend to call, someone to listen without judging her, to commiserate her shitty life choices, to drown her sorrows in ice cream with. Unfortunately, though, the few friends she did have when she'd started dating Ian had been rather vocal about their disapproval and she'd ultimately chosen him over them and now she was paying the price.

For a few moments, she stared at her phone, debating, worrying her lip between her teeth, before dialling the only person she thought might come when she needed them.

She really didn't want to be alone right now...


	3. Chapter 3

Emily had just enough time between making the phone call and the knock on the door to regret calling. But by then, it was too late to take it back, so she plastered on a smile and opened the door to find her professor on the other side of the door looking awkward and shy, like she wasn't sure why she'd come.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," she burst out instantly, cheeks red, just as shy, just as awkward. "I'm sure you have lots of other things you'd prefer to be doing this evening..." She bit down on the timid smile on her lips to keep from looking too hopeful.

Alex shook her head. "Only grading papers," she said, "And you'll be the one who has to deal with those tomorrow, so I figured it was okay to play hooky." She added a playful wink to put her at ease.

"Touche." Emily said with a laugh. She stood back to let her into the apartment. "But wasn't your husband annoyed?"

Alex waved away her concern. "He's on call at the hospital, so it wasn't as if we were having a relaxing evening together anyway."

She tried to keep her relieved sigh from being too obvious because despite her words, she really wanted her to stay. "Thank you for coming. I just... I couldn't be alone." She shrugged awkwardly, apologetically.

Alex, for her part, just smiled understandingly. Then, reading her quiet timidity as easily as a book, she changed the subject, "This is the cleanest college apartment I've ever been in... Including my own, back in the day."

"You'd never know that growing up I always had a nanny cleaning up after me..." Emily joked, grateful for the levity. "Besides, you keep me so busy, I'm barely here enough to make a mess," she added, only half kidding.

"I suppose having a baby would change all that..." Alex mused quietly, without thinking. Emily gave a snort of what might've been agreement and Alex winced, wishing she hadn't said anything on the touchy subject.

"Do you want something to drink?" Emily asked, in lieu of answering. "I've got some tea, I think...no idea how long it's been there, though. My mother sent it from Morocco because she thinks I drink too much coffee. It's probably too late for a coffee, but I've got some really strong stuff my boyfriend left here if you want. That's about it, though..." she rambled.

"Tea would be wonderful," Alex assured her, settling on the couch that looked entirely too nice to be found in a college apartment. She offered Emily a warm smile in thanks when she returned with two mugs of tea. "I'm sorry for bringing up the subject of the baby," she apologized, guilt burning in her gut over the careless words, "It's obvious you aren't comfortable with it and I shouldn't have joked about it."

Emily shook her head insistently. "It's okay. You didn't mean anything by it. I guess I'm just still trying to wrap my head around it. This isn't how I wanted my life to go."

Alex nodded, understanding all too well, considering how the Amerithrax debacle had blown her life to pieces.

"The problem is," she continued, "My... _boyfriend_ wants to keep it and I'm not sure that's the best thing for anyone. He's not... He's not a good man." She sighed sadly, wearily.

"But you love him?" Alex asked, noting the deliberately ambivalent way she'd used the word 'boyfriend', wondering exactly who this man was.

Emily nodded slowly. "I think so. At least, I did? I don't know." She gave a small humourless laugh. "God, I must sound so stupid – I'm having a kid with the guy and I don't even know if I love him..."

Alex gently patted her knee, giving her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I don't think you're stupid. It's normal to have doubts – you're still so young and a baby is life-changing. You shouldn't have to make a permanent decision based on a _maybe_."

Emily couldn't help rolling her eyes because obviously she'd already failed at that.

Alex realized then that her hand was still on Emily's knee and withdrew it as quickly as if she'd been burned. Neither of them said anything. She took a sip of still too hot tea for something to do with her hand that still burned with the feel of Emily's soft skin.

"Do you want to watch _Lord of the Rings_?" Emily suggested to fill the silence. "No one will watch it with me because I won't shut up about the Elvish linguistics... I'm thinking of writing my thesis on it."

Alex's eyes lit up.

* * *

Emily lasted all of fifteen minutes into the movie before she fell asleep, slumping over on Alex's shoulder, exhausted.

Alex couldn't blame her, with all the stress she was obviously under at the moment. Smiling fondly, she carefully eased herself out from under Emily's sleeping form, propping her up against a pillow so she wouldn't wake up. She carefully draped a blanket over her and, just for good measure, brought the garbage can over, in case the urge to vomit swept over her in the night.

That was when she noticed the picture frames on the mantle and she couldn't help the smile that swept across her face... There were a few when she was older, but the ones that caught her eye were of Emily as a young girl. One where she was maybe seven years old sitting astride a camel, face caught in laughter. One where she was no more than four, in pyjamas and pigtails on Christmas morning, amid a storm of torn wrapping paper.

In the final picture, she had to have been no more than a few hours old – tiny and pink and perfect, fast asleep in the hospital issue bassinet. Her long lashes kissed her chubby baby cheeks, her pink bow lips puckered slightly in her sleep, and her tiny fingers curled around a fistful of her onesie.

Something about the picture made Alex's heart catch in her chest, a deep maternal ache that left her nearly breathless.

After a moment's debate, she quietly snapped a picture of the image.

That night, as she lay alone in her bed, she couldn't stop staring at the picture, that desire to have something more to come home to than an empty bed and a note from her husband apologizing for having to leave growing like a chasm inside her, becoming more and more certain that she was meant to have the baby that, in a few short months, Emily would bring into the world...


	4. Chapter 4

Alex looked up from writing test instructions on the board when she heard the door open and close to admit a rather green looking Emily. "I wasn't sure you were going to make it," she said, but she said it with a gentle, almost teasing smile.

Emily glanced at her watch. "Five minutes to spare," she said in defense. "And I didn't even puke on the bus ride over."

"Congratulations," Alex said with a laugh that was, perhaps, a little grossed out. "You do look rather sickly," she added. "Are you sure you'll be alright for the next two hours?"

She'd showed up to help moderate the 100 level midterm exam looking like shit. And she knew she looked like shit. But she needed the TA job, so she wasn't about to flake, even if she had to puke in the trash can while the students took the test...

She dropped her backpack on the front desk with a thud, proceeding to produce a bottle of ginger ale and take a generous swig. "I came prepared..." she announced. As if to punctuate the statement, she pulled out a sleeve of saltines and stuffed a whole cracker into her mouth as she dropped an exam onto every desk.

"If you aren't feeling well, you don't have to stay," Alex insisted. "I can handle one midterm on my own."

"I've got every anti-nausea remedy I could find," she replied, "I'm good for the long-haul. Besides, the students aren't scared of you the way they are me..."

Alex raised a brow. "They're afraid of you?" That _would_ explain a lot, but she couldn't fathom why anyone would be frightened of the girl.

"Mostly because they think I'm a witch," she said with a shrug and a smirk.

"A witch?" she repeated skeptically. "Well, the green skin isn't going to help that." She thought for a moment, then added, "Though, to be fair, I'd have pegged you for a vampire."

Emily laughed. "Touche," she said around another mouthful of crackers, spewing crumbs.

Alex's smile was soft, fond. "All jokes aside, how do you feel?"

She shrugged. "Ready for morning sickness to go the fuck away... Everyone says pregnancy is supposed to be beautiful and magical, but right now it just sucks." She sighed and sank down into one of the seats. "Maybe if I wanted this baby, it would feel different, but... I know I'm not ready for this. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Absolutely not," Alex insisted. Emily raised a brow in question and, perhaps, disbelief. "You're allowed to not want something if you aren't ready for it, aren't prepared. Being a mother is a choice and you don't have to choose it. No matter what anyone says. You're a good person to want better for your child."

"Yeah?"

Alex nodded, smiled. "Have you spoken to the guidance counsellor?" she asked, changing the subject.

"She gave me the name of an adoption counsellor," she said. "Too bad there's no counsellor for convincing your baby's father that you shouldn't keep the baby because he wants to raise a 'warrior'..." She rolled her eyes. She hadn't spoken to Ian since he'd dictated the rest of her life for her that day in the bathroom. She knew that sooner or later, she'd have to face him and tell him she had no plans to raise a child to take over the helm of his arms dealing empire...but right now, she just couldn't face that conversation.

Alex choked on a sip of her coffee at the quasi-confession.

Emily's eyes went wide upon realizing she may have over-shared. "Anyway..." she said, in an attempt to reroute the conversation away from dangerous territory. She shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something, but the first student came in the door at that moment and the conversation was effectively cut short, leaving Alex confused and worried about Emily.

* * *

Alex stood in the doorway to the spare bedroom, lost in thought. She hummed softly to herself unconsciously – a lullaby her mother used to sing her when she was little and couldn't sleep.

James came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, startling her back into awareness. "Penny for your thoughts?" he murmured beside her ear. He dropped his arms to wrap them around her waist.

Alex turned in his arms to return the embrace, kissing him quickly. "Just thinking about nursery decor..." she said sweetly, pasting on a hopeful, almost pleading, smile.

James raised a brow, curious but without judgement. "Ah... Is this theoretical nursery for a certain TA's unborn child?"

"Perhaps..." If there was a slight pleading note to her voice, she couldn't help but play into it, with puppy dog eyes and a soft smile. "Have you given any more thought to the matter?"

He was silent for several moments, studying her thoughtfully. "Is this really what you want?" he asked, "This isn't just because you're fond of this girl and want to help her? You really want this baby?"

Alex nodded, trying not to look too hopeful but fearing that was a battle she'd already lost. "The universe is giving us this opportunity to be parents – who knows if the chance will come again... We should at least talk to the adoption counsellor, see what's involved. I don't even know for sure that she'll want us to have the baby. I just want to _try_."

James was silent for several more moments, then tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and dropped a kiss to her forehead. "I think a soft green for the walls. Maybe a Beatrix Potter theme? I know how you enjoy her work."

A brilliant smile blossomed across her face and she threw her arms around his neck. " _Thank you_ ," she murmured into his skin. She gasped, choked on a lump of happy tears that welled in her throat. She'd waited so long for this – for the right moment, the right baby, the right _feeling_ – and she was finally _finally_ getting it...


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you alright?" Alex asked, startling Emily out of her trance. "You seem distracted." It wasn't accusatory, merely concerned in her gently maternal way.

Emily looked up from the paper she was supposed to be grading with a blank stare. She hadn't absorbed a word of it, even though she'd read it three times. She tapped her pen a few times against the desk in thought, then sighed and shook her head. "I have an ultrasound this afternoon..."

"Excited?" Alex asked.

"Fucking terrified," Emily admitted dryly. She shook her head again, teeth worrying her bottom lip. She suddenly seemed intensely interested in the surface of the desk, eyes determinedly avoiding the other woman's gaze. "They're going to show me this baby and I'm afraid I'm going to feel this connection, that I'm going to want it...is that weird?" Her eyes suddenly flickered up to meet Alex's and the fear swirling there was almost breathtaking.

"I think that's normal," Alex assured her. She attempted what she hoping was a soothing smile, reaching across the desk to rest a hand on top of hers.

Emily let out a shaky breath, but didn't pull her hand away. "But then, I think, if I don't feel anything for this baby – my own flesh and blood – growing inside me, does that make me a monster?"

"Of course not," Alex insisted vehemently. "You're allowed to have whatever emotion comes up, even the less than maternal ones. You're _human_."

"Well, being human sucks sometimes," Emily muttered.

Alex nodded her agreement, but didn't comment further. "Your boyfriend must be excited at least."

Emily rolled her eyes, letting out a breath like she was absolutely exhausted. "I didn't tell him. I really can't handle an argument right now..."

"Still not sold on adoption?" Alex asked, eyes soft and sympathetic.

She scoffed. "If he got to see the baby, I'd never convince him to give it up." She shook her head. "He's stuck on this picture of us as a perfect family with me as the obedient stay-at-home wife and mother...and I'm not sure that's in the cards for us. Not with the life he leads." Her eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.

For a moment, Alex was stunned into silence by that admission, pieces slowly falling into place about who this man was...leaving behind even more questions and more than a few concerns. Then, she asked, "So, you're just going by yourself?"

"Well, I don't have any friends and I don't even know what country my mother is in, so..." She shrugged. Then, more to herself than Alex, she remarked, "I should probably tell her I'm pregnant one of these days."

"Did you..." she asked tentatively, "Did you want some company? I mean, if you wanted... I don't mind coming with you."

"Really?" Emily asked, eyes wide, "You'd do that?" She seemed shy, almost embarrassed by her eagerness, but her smile was hopeful.

"If you want me to," she said, her own smile that same mixture of shy and hopeful.

* * *

"Are you sure this isn't too awkward?" Emily asked yet again, squirming around on the exam table, paper crinkling underneath her noisily.

Alex reached over to squeeze her hand with a reassuring smile. "I'm happy to be here for you."

Emily gave a watery little laugh, grateful tears welling in her throat and she silently cursed hormones and her suddenly over the top emotions. "That might be the first time anyone's ever said that to me."

Alex's responding look was sad, her heart going out to Emily who seemed so very alone in her time of need. Not for the first time, she wondered about the young woman and where she'd come from that had left her so very broken, yet stronger than Alex herself had ever been.

Emily attempted a smile, hating the pity that saddened Alex's eyes. "What about you?" she asked, changing the subject. "Any kids?"

Alex's expression fell further, though she tried to hide it. She shook her head. "I had a hysterectomy when I was younger – my mother died of uterine cancer and I had the gene markers that predisposed me for it as well, so they recommended the procedure as a precaution."

"Oh..." Emily said softly, digesting that information, cursing her careless words (even if there was no way she could've known). "I'm sorry."

Alex shook her head, gave her a reassuring smile to assure her no harm had been done. But, as the doctor arrived and commenced the exam, all she could think about was how she'd never know what any of this was like – to grow a child inside her, to have that connection with her own flesh and blood, to experience all the unique emotions that came that first moment she held that child in her arms after nine months of waiting. Most of the time, she was at peace with that, but some days were harder than others...

She was effectively distracted from her quickly spiralling emotions by Emily's clammy hand reaching out to clasp hers as the doctor started up the ultrasound monitor. Alex met her gaze and attempted a comforting smile, trying to hide the little spark of jealousy that she was none too proud of from crossing her face.

Then, the room was filled with the hoofbeat sound of a tiny heartbeat and Alex felt all the air leave her lungs, felt every negative emotion leave her until all she could feel was the awe of witnessing this tiny miracle. She looked to Emily who had one hand clapped over her mouth, tears in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

Emily nodded, but seemed unable to form any words. She just squeezed her hand tighter around Alex's.

* * *

"Thanks," Emily said, a little awkwardly as she wiped the jelly from her stomach and pulled her shirt back into place. "For coming with me."

"Any time," Alex promised. "Really." Emily just smiled softly in response. "How do you feel now?" she asked, nodding to the sheet of ultrasound images in Emily's hand.

Emily shook her head. "I have no idea," she admitted. "But I know this baby deserves the world...and I can't give it that."

"What if _I_ could?" Alex blurted out.

"What?"

She hadn't planned on saying that, but now that the words were out there, she decided to forge ahead and put voice to the thought that had been plaguing her since that first day she'd caught Emily crying in the bathroom. "What if I adopted your baby?"

For several moments, the two women blinked at each other in stunned silence.


	6. Chapter 6

"You... You want to adopt the baby?" Emily repeated, almost incredulously.

Suddenly feeling shy, now that the words were out there and couldn't be taken back, Alex shrugged awkwardly. "It's something I was considering. I know that you've been worrying about your child's future and my husband and I have been considering adoption for a long time...maybe this was meant to be." Her eyes never left Emily's, wanting her to see how serious she was, how sincere she was in her desire to be this child's mother.

Emily was silent for several moments, quietly absorbing just how _badly_ she seemed to want this baby (wondering what it must be like to be loved that much). Eventually, she nodded slightly, smiled faintly. "Did... Did you want one?" she asked, offering up one of the ultrasound pictures.

Alex took the photo reverently, staring at the little peanut-shaped fetus that would one day soon be a baby – possibly _her_ baby. Her breath caught in her throat and she tried not to let Emily see how overcome with emotion she was. Swallowing thickly, she stammered, "Maybe I could set up a time we could get coffee together so you can meet my husband? I want you to be certain we're who you'd want raising your child before we move forward and..." She stopped talking as Emily laughed softly. "What?"

She shook her head. "I think you're more anxious than I am..."

Alex took a deep breath to slow her racing mind. "Sorry," she said, chagrined. "It's just... It's been a long time since I've seriously considered the reality of having a baby." Her gaze kept catching the photo and her eyes lit up all over again, so entranced by this little life.

Emily watched the emotions play across her face, marvelling that something she'd created by accident could make someone so _happy_. "I think you'll be a great mother," she said quietly, knowing if nothing else was true, _that_ at least was.

* * *

"How did it go?" James asked when Alex walked through the door – practically floating on air – happier than he'd seen her in ages...possibly ever. She didn't reply, merely handing him the ultrasound image, grinning dreamily. "This is our future child, then?"

Alex nodded. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to love a child that wasn't _mine_ , but I already love this baby so much..."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Ally," he cautioned, not wanting to burst her bubble, but needing to keep her grounded.

"I know," she insisted, nodding solemnly. "I'm being cautious. Just... _hopeful_." She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. "How would you feel about meeting her for coffee? So she can get to know you too?"

He nodded silently, knowing he couldn't deny her something she wanted so badly. He hoped she wasn't setting herself up to get hurt, hoped this girl knew how high Alex was pinning her hopes. He didn't think he could stand to see her get hurt again, the way she'd been when the reality that they'd never have a child of their own first set in.

"I'll schedule it for one of your days off," she continued, blissfully unaware. "She knows you're a doctor, so she understands your schedule is busy, but I think it's important that you get to know each other – we'll have a life-long connection because of this baby."

"Speaking of busy schedules..." James prompted. Alex pushed herself away from him, brow raised, unsure if she liked where this was heading. "You remember how I applied for a position with Doctors Without Borders?"

"Yes..." she said slowly, warily.

"I finally heard back and they've offered me a position." He paused, waiting for her reaction, unsure it was going to be a pleasant one.

Alex remained deathly silent for what felt like hours. "Wh-where?" she stammered, struggling to wrap her mind around the news he'd just delivered like a wrecking ball through all her plans.

"I don't know yet – presumably somewhere hot and inhospitable," he attempted to joke.

"But... But what about the adoption? You said you wanted to go forward with it and now you're just changing your mind? Without telling me?" She was trying hard not to get flustered, but she could feel her blood pressure rising, bringing angry tears to her eyes that she struggled not to let fall.

He gently rested his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look in his eyes. "Ally, it's not like that – I still think we should pursue the adoption, it's obviously very important to you – but this is a huge opportunity for me to advance my career and I don't know that I can afford to pass it up..."

"And I'm just supposed to essentially be a single mother for who knows how long while you're gone?" She choked on an errant sob against her will, betraying her tremulous state of emotion.

Gently shushing her, he folded her into his chest. "We'll figure this out together, okay? _Together_."

* * *

"Ian, we need to talk..." Emily commanded, valiantly attempting to keep her voice from shaking as she settled into the seat across from him in the Black Shamrock – his favourite local bar (presumably because they were fast and loose with carding and tended to attract the rather seedy characters that might be of use to an arms dealer).

"Does this have anything to do with where you've been today?" he asked, brow high on his forehead like he already knew the answer to his question.

Taking a deep fortifying breath, she launched into her prepared speech before he could derail her, "Ian, I'm putting this baby up for adoption. If you want to raise it, you're welcome to, but you'll be doing so alone. I don't want to be a mother right now."

Ian took a long draught of his whiskey. "So, that's your decision, then?"

She nodded firmly, but was betrayed by her inability to meet his eyes just then for fear of seeing the icy blue anger she knew lived inside him. She played with the ring of condensation his drink had left on the table, hoping her hands weren't shaking as hard as they felt.

"And what of _us_?"

"Ian, I still love you, you know that," she insisted.

He scoffed. "Do I?"

"Adoption has nothing to do with my feelings for you. Maybe in a few years – after I've graduated and have a career – we can try again, really _try_. We can still be together, have a future." He didn't seem convinced. "Besides," she continued, "Adoption isn't like it used to be. It can be as open as we want...pictures, letters, visits. We don't have to be strangers, just because we can't be parents."

Ian said nothing for so long, she started to wonder if he was ever planning on speaking to her again. Then, just as suddenly as he'd gone silent, he broke out of his trance, face splitting into an almost haunting smile.

"We'll be a family," she promised with a hopeful smile, leaning across to kiss him.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ian, you can't do this!"

"Seems to me, I can, Love." He was entirely too calm in his anger, almost as if he'd been planning for this eventuality. (She supposed that wouldn't be _too_ surprising – she knew the kind of man he was, afterall.)

Emily had gone home with Ian after meeting him at the Black Shamrock which – she now supposed – hadn't been the greatest plan, given that she'd just told him news he hadn't wanted to hear. He'd made her a cup of tea that – she now realized – had been drugged. And when she'd woken up, she'd found herself chained to his bed.

She tugged on the chain keeping her prisoner, testing its strength, though she knew it wouldn't give. "You can't keep me here," she hissed, furious – more with herself for having let herself get into this situation in the first place. "Someone will notice I'm gone and come looking for me."

"I've no intention of keeping you locked up forever," he informed her, stroking her cheek almost tenderly. "How long depends entirely on you." She lifted a brow in question, but maintained her scowl. "When you see reason and agree to keep the baby, we can be a family."

"You think you're selling me on the idea of raising a child with you?" she asked incredulously.

"I didn't want to do this, Love, but I had no choice," he said, unamused by her defiance.

She batted his hand away. "Go to Hell, Ian!" she snapped.

His sweet smile vanished. "Do not test me, Love. I could just as easily kill you once this baby is born..."

"Fuck you," she spat, "You're a psychopath – I don't know why I ever loved you!"

"That's just the hormones talking," he assured her, condescension dripping from his voice. "Nine months is plenty of time for you to see reason." Then, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"What makes you think the girl's been kidnapped, Alex?" Rossi asked.

When Emily didn't show up for class the that day, Alex was mildly concerned. When she failed to show up for office hours or hand in her latest assignment, her mild concern ratcheted up to extreme. Emily was far too responsible to not even send an email.

Perhaps she was overreacting, but after her last class of the day, she drove over to Emily's apartment hoping she'd just been extremely ill, but fearing the worst.

After lying to the building super, telling him that Emily was her niece and she wasn't answering her phone, she was inside a suspiciously empty apartment. Heart sinking, she made a phone call...

She had remained close with Rossi after she'd left the BAU and when she'd called, saying one of her students had gone missing, he'd been willing to humour her at least – even if he wasn't entirely sure there was cause for alarm, he trusted Alex's judgement enough to look at the case.

"I _know_ she has," Alex insisted. "I know everyone says this, but she wouldn't have just ran away." It was clear from his expression that he remained unconvinced, but she continued on undeterred, "She's suggested to me that the man she's been seeing may be violent and he wasn't happy she wanted to give their baby up for adoption."

"What do you know about him?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not much. I think she was afraid of him – she said he wasn't a good man."

He nodded, returned to his cursory glance around the apartment. He paused on a framed photo of Emily with an older man, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, exposing a distinctive tattoo on his wrist, brow instantly creasing with concern. "We may have a problem..."

Alex felt her heart pound somewhere in her throat.

* * *

Ian returned with a tray laden with breakfast – toast, fruit, juice, and prenatal vitamins – and set it on Emily's lap. He reached out to stroke her hair, still tender with her, even in her captivity. Swallowing her pride, she looked up at him with the sweetest smile she could muster. "I'm sorry about earlier," she murmured. "I didn't mean the horrible things I said."

"I know, Love."

She reached up to clasp his hand, kissing his knuckles softly. "Can you take off the shackles?" she asked. "I have no intention of going anywhere. You know that, right? I'm right where I want to be – with you."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He pulled his hand away, shaking his head patronizingly.

"Ian..." she begged, "I'm no threat to you or this baby. I _want_ this baby."

"Just not with me. You've made that very clear." His eyes were frosting over and she knew her chance of winning him over was quickly disappearing.

"Please, Ian..." she begged, "Let me go and we can talk about this."

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "You'll stay there until I'm convinced you're not going anywhere."

* * *

Rossi called in the BAU who, in turn, called in Interpol.

"How did you get caught up in this mess?" Clyde Easter asked with a pitying shake of his head. He passed Alex a cup of coffee, leaning against the wall outside the bullpen next to her.

Alex took the mug for something to do with her hands, her head still reeling with the knowledge that Emily had somehow gotten mixed up with an internationally wanted terrorist. "I offered to adopt the baby at the centre of this whole mess," she remarked dryly, starting to wonder if this wasn't the universe's way of laughing at her.

Clyde apparently had no response to that.

In the ensuing silence, she asked, "Is he going to kill her?" He opened his mouth to reassure her, but she shook her head. "Don't patronize me with platitudes. What does his profile say?"

"Ian Doyle is a very dangerous man," he admitted, paused to consider his words. "He's a power-assertive psychopath; he's serious about what he does and he doesn't play games. He's unpredictable and has an explosive temper – if she sets him off, he could very well hurt her. But I think so long as she's pregnant, he's unlikely to kill her if he wants the baby that badly."

"That's not at all reassuring."

"She's managed to stay alive for this long," he pointed out. "She's done what seasoned agents couldn't – we've sent in trained undercover operatives that haven't made it two weeks before he discovered them. You just have to believe she'll hang on a little while longer."

Alex eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "You're planning to offer her a job, aren't you?"

"She's already better than half my team – imagine what she could do with a little training..."

Alex shook her head. She wanted better for Emily, wanted _more_ for her...


	8. Chapter 8

Emily lay back as Ian moved inside her, panting and moaning, and she tried to act like she was enjoying it.

For whatever reason, whether it was the knowledge that he'd knocked her up or the fact that he literally had her chained to his bed, he was much more interested in sex and, in the interest of keeping him happy, she was trying to play along.

She knew that her only chance – her _child's_ only chance – was to escape from Ian's makeshift prison. She couldn't bank on anyone coming to rescue her. She was going to have to rescue herself. And the only way to do that was to earn his trust.

She'd spent two weeks being as obedient and docile as possible, though it was entirely opposite to her natural instinct. She played the part of the dutiful loving girlfriend and whenever he brought up the subject of the baby, she acted like she was considering keeping it. And, though it made her skin crawl, she acted like she still loved him, still _wanted_ him.

"Ian..." she gasped, hoping her acting was more convincing than it felt as she squirmed underneath him in a simulation of ecstasy, as if he still turned her on, rather than repulsed her. "Oh, Ian..."

His one hand kept migrating to rest on her slight swell of a belly with some kind of primal pride over the knowledge that he'd impregnated her. She wasn't sure that, as long as she lived, she'd ever be able to forget the feeling of his hands on her, with the knowledge that she'd once longed for that touch.

With a guttural cry, he emptied himself inside her and rolled onto his back, out of breath. Emily shuddered, feeling used and dirty. She swallowed on the lump in her throat, trying not to cry lest she anger him by breaking the fantasy that she was anything other than fully committed to the illusion that they could still be a family.

"You seem distracted, Love," he remarked, as if only just realizing she was there.

"I'm not feeling well," she lied, pulling the sheets up over herself to hide her nakedness from his eyes.

Concern creased his brow and he reached over to feel her forehead. "You feel feverish," he said, frowning. He reached for his phone. "I'll have a doctor come to the house."

"No!" Emily yelped, entirely too urgent. Then, softer, "No, I'm sure it's nothing. I'll probably be fine by tomorrow."

Ian studied her for a moment as if unsure he believed her, then nodded once. "But if you're still unwell tomorrow, I'm calling the doctor."

She forced a smile. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know you're only trying to do what's best for us."

He seemed pleased to hear her say that. "You just worry about growing our child, Love. I'll worry about the rest." He kissed the top of her head, then climbed out of bed and started getting dressed.

"Do you think you could leave the handcuffs off?" she asked sweetly when he moved to restrain her again, batting her eyes up at him for good measure. "I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to..." She nodded to where she knew the door was locked with at least one armed guard posted outside. Ian spared no expense when it came to his personal security.

He said nothing for a long moment, seemingly considering whether he believed her request to be innocent. Eventually, he nodded. "Aye, I suppose you're right. You wouldn't get ten steps..."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "We're going to be a family."

* * *

It was late into the night when Alex got a phone call from a number she didn't recognize. "Hello?" she answered warily, suspicious and more than a little concerned.

" _Look for Lauren Reynolds."_

Alex felt her heart leap and lodge somewhere in her throat. The voice was shaky and frightened, but it was unmistakably Emily. "Where are you?" she asked in a breathless rush. "Are you safe?" But the line had already gone dead.

With panic pounding in her chest like a war drum, she called Clyde Easter.

* * *

Emily was hooked up to half a dozen monitors and IVs when a team of armed federal agents swarmed her hospital room. If she hadn't been praying they'd show up, she might've been frightened.

As it was, she was overjoyed.

"Get on the ground, now!" the lead agent demanded, gun aimed squarely at Ian's chest.

Ian made no move to comply. He turned to Emily, one hand stroking her hair almost tenderly, his eyes almost soft as he looked at her. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Hey! I'm not going to tell you again!" the agent commanded, "Get on the ground, now!"

He raised himself up to his full height, putting his hands behind his head. Without looking at the agents, eyes never leaving Emily's, he said, "Kill me or arrest me, but I will not lay on the ground like a dog."

As they lead Ian out of the room in handcuffs and, hopefully, out of her and her child's lives forever, Alex came bursting through the door. She paused when she caught sight of Emily like she couldn't believe she was really there, alive and unharmed. Then, professionalism be damned, she swept Emily up in her arms, holding her tight to her chest, choking on relieved sobs.

After a moment of surprise, Emily returned the embrace, breath hitching with sobs of her own.

When she pulled back, Clyde was standing beside the bed, studying Emily with curiosity. "How did you do it?" he asked, "How did you engineer this escape?"

Alex turned to him with a frown. "Can't this wait until the morning? She's just been through hell; she's clearly exhausted. This much stress isn't good for the baby." As if to punctuate her statement, the fetal stress monitor beeped insistently.

Emily shot her a thankful smile, squeezed her hand in reassurance. "It's okay," she insisted. "I won't be able to fall asleep any time soon." She turned to Clyde. "Ian..." She paused, swallowed thickly. Saying his name felt wrong – he may have been a bad man, but she'd loved him at one point... " _He_ 'd been careful to remove anything from the room I could use to harm myself fearing I might take my own life, so I had to use my imagination...

"I smashed the light bulb in the lamp beside the bed and used one of the shards to make a shallow cut on my inner thigh where it wouldn't immediately be obvious. I used the blood to make it look like I was miscarrying, so he had no choice but to take me to the hospital. I borrowed the nurse's phone while she was doing my pelvic to call the only number I could remember..." She gave Alex a small, almost shy, smile.

Clyde hummed an impressed note. "You think well on your feet," he praised.

Alex shot him an irritated look, seeing where he was headed, but was saved having to reprimand him when a nurse showed up with a sedative and shooed them from the room.

"Wait..." Emily called out before Alex could go. "Stay?" she asked, "I don't want to be alone right now."

Wordlessly, Alex took the seat beside the bed.

As the sedative took effect, Emily turned her lolling head to look at her, a sleepy sad half-smile on her lips. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" Alex asked, squeezing her hand gently.

"Offering my baby a different story – one that isn't... _him_."


	9. Chapter 9

The first thing Emily saw upon waking up from the sedation was Alex contorted in an impossible position in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed. "Have you been there all night?" she croaked upon finding her voice, throat dry and raspy. She reached for the water waiting on the bedside table.

Alex yawned, stretched. "Was it only a night? It felt like an eternity." Seeing Emily reaching for the water, she passed her the glass that was just out of reach.

She drank greedily for a moment, watching from the corner of her eye was Alex attempted to roll the kink out of her neck. "You could have gone home..." she said guiltily, "Isn't your husband wondering where you are?"

"He's working tonight," Alex said with a dismissive wave. "But he stopped by to check on you during his break." She smiled faintly; she appreciated the gesture, even if he'd yet to make the time to meet Emily while she was conscious...

Before Emily could say anything in response, they were interrupted by Elizabeth Prentiss bursting into the room, looking ready to read someone the riot act...and Emily had a feeling it was her. No matter how old she was, in her mother's eyes she would always be six years old, tracking mud through the foyer of the Russian embassy in her formal dress.

"When were you planning on telling me you're pregnant?" she said by way of greeting, not bothering with pleasantries and small talk.

"Hello, Mother," Emily deadpanned with a roll of her eyes. "Nice to see you too. I'm fine, by the way, just got rescued after being held prisoner, no big deal."

Elizabeth did not seem amused by her smart mouth.

"I'm twenty-four, Mother, I don't have to tell you every detail of my life," Emily continued, just as unamused. "Besides, I'm not keeping the baby, so it's really none of your business."

"None of my business?" Elizabeth repeated, brow raised. "You're still my daughter and you're carrying my grandchild. Of course, it's my business. You didn't think I'd need to know?"

"Just to be clear..." Emily said, holding up a hand to stop the verbal tide, "Are you just upset that I didn't tell you or do you actually object to adoption?" Not that she cared either way.

Elizabeth scowled. "What I object to is you not thinking about the consequences of your actions. Did you ever pause to think how your choices reflect poorly on me? Did you ever stop to think what people would say about you? About _me_?"

Emily scoffed. "No, Mother, you're right – I should have stopped to think of you when I missed my pill and consider whether people would think you raised a whore for a daughter."

Alex, who had been trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible, choked on a sip of water at that, coughing and sputtering, drawing both women's focus. Emily, at least, seemed to find it amusing, tipping her a wink.

Elizabeth raised a brow, unimpressed. "Who's this?" she asked, as if Alex weren't there and capable of answering for herself.

Looking less than pleased about it, Emily introduced, "Mother, this is Dr. Blake – my faculty advisor. Alex, this is my mother."

Elizabeth studied Alex as if she were a curious but distasteful new species, making no move to shake her hand. "Why is she here?" she asked, turning back to Emily after completing her evaluation.

"Because she cares about me," Emily retorted, mortified but not surprised. She didn't bother putting voice to the waiting barb that at least _someone_ seemed to care about her...

Elizabeth hummed a note of displeasure, continuing on undeterred as if Alex hadn't interrupted by almost choking, "I want you to move back home."

"What!?" Emily cried, "Why?" It was clear from her expression she couldn't imagine anything she'd rather do less.

"You obviously aren't safe living on your own. You'll come home until you give birth, where my security detail can look after you. We can address the security issues for after you give birth at a later date."

"Not going to happen," Emily said, rolling her eyes once again.

"Emily, you were just _abducted_ ," Elizabeth pointed out as if she were particularly slow. "You clearly aren't in any position to be making decisions about your personal safety, let alone the safety of your child."

"She can stay with me," Alex offered before she knew she was going to say anything. Both women turned to look at her – Elizabeth skeptical, Emily hopeful. "I mean, if she wants to..."

"I don't think..." Elizabeth started to say.

"Really?" Emily interrupted. "It wouldn't be intruding?"

Alex shook her head, smiled meekly. "We've got lots of room and James is rarely home, so I wouldn't mind the company."

"Emily, I really don't think..."

Emily ignored her mother. "If you're sure...?"

Alex nodded.

Emily smiled brightly. "I'd like that."

* * *

Emily dropped a duffel bag on the floor of Alex's spare bedroom, settling herself on the edge of the bed with a sigh, one hand rubbing her small belly.

"Is this all your stuff?" Alex asked, carrying a box into the room.

Emily shrugged. "Pretty much. I'm used to travelling so much, I've never really had the chance to accumulate possessions. Makes moving easy." Alex looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. "I always wanted different for my kids – I wanted them to have one stable home where they could make memories growing up, where they could make friends and keep them, maybe have more than toys than could fit in a suitcase..." Emily continued. She shrugged, almost shyly. "This looks like a nice place to grow up." She offered Alex a smile.

"I hope so." She returned the smile, settled next to her. "When we bought it, I always imagined the house filled with laughter and little footsteps, first steps and first words," she paused, bit her lip on a smile. "It's hard to believe it's finally happening after thinking for so long it never would."

Emily leaned over so her shoulder bumped into Alex's. "There's no one I'd rather give my baby to."

They sat in companionable silence until the front door opened and closed and James' voice floated up the stairs announcing his presence, interrupting the moment.


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm home," Emily announced to the house at large, setting her book bag down with a thunk of textbooks against hardwood. She groaned, stretched, kneading her sore lower back – she was getting too pregnant to be carrying around so many books.

"In the kitchen," Alex's voice floated down the hall.

It still felt weird to call Alex's house 'home', to be living with her professor, but she was extremely grateful that she had opened up her home to her when she'd no longer felt safe in her own apartment. Alex had gone to great lengths to make Emily feel comfortable, so she was doing her best to show her appreciation and be a respectful house guest.

She followed the smell of dinner cooking into the kitchen, nearly salivating as she tried to remember the last time she'd had a home-cooked meal. "That smells wonderful," she effused, leaning over the pot of pasta sauce to inhale the scent, giving it a small stir to appear helpful.

Alex shooed her out of the way of the stove. "I'm not much of a cook," she admitted, though Emily silently diagreed.

"How did you have time to make all this?" she asked, popping a piece of cucumber from the Greek salad into her mouth.

Alex surveyed the various dishes lining the counter, realizing she may have gone overboard for only three people (even if one of them was pregnant). She shrugged. "I didn't want you to think we never eat home-cooked food, so I cut my office hours short."

Emily laughed. "I'm in college," she pointed out, "Macaroni with real cheese seems extravagant to me."

"Yes, but I didn't want you to assume we'd feed our child take-out all the time."

Emily's expression softened. "I already picked you, you don't have to try to impress me..." Then, seeing the way her cheeks reddened as if embarrassed, she changed the subject, "How can I help?"

Grateful, Alex smiled her thanks. "You can set the table. James should be home any minute, then we can eat."

"Good – I'm _starving_."

* * *

Emily chewed thoughtfully on a bite of salad as she listened to James describe his job in response to her diplomatically polite questions. It was the first time she'd actually had a conversation with the soon-to-be adoptive father of her child, she realized.

She stopped chewing, feeling acid rise up the back of her throat, stomach churning dangerously, suddenly deaf to everything being said.

He paused mid-sentence, brow furrowing with concern at the expression on her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, frowning, "You've gone chalk white..."

She shook her head insistently, eyes watering. "I'm sorry," she choked, coughed, before clapping a hand over her mouth and standing quickly from the table, fleeing to the bathroom.

The couple exchanged brief looks of concern before Alex moved to follow her. "Emily?" She knocked on the bathroom door. "Emily, are you alright?"

Her answer was a violent retching sound, followed by a meek, "Fine."

"You don't sound fine..."

A small whimper.

"Can I come in?" Alex asked, dozens of worst case scenarios running through her mind.

There was a long silence, then the lock on the door flipped. Alex opened the door a fraction, peeking her head inside to find Emily leaning against the wall, head in her hands, sobbing quietly. Without words, she wet a washcloth, using it to gently mop Emily's sweaty face.

"I'm sorry," Emily whimpered pitifully, meeting Alex's gaze and attempting a thankful smile.

Alex shushed her softly, sweeping the cloth along her forehead with maternal tenderness. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she insisted, settling down next to her on the floor, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"But you worked so hard on dinner and three bites in, I develop an aversion to olives and ruin it," Emily continued, leaning her head against the other woman's. "I feel awful..."

"Well, you did just throw up," she pointed out, stroking Emily's hair.

"About ruining dinner."

"You're pregnant, you're allowed to ruin a few meals," she soothed. "Besides, I should probably get used to it – kids do tend to put a damper on nice meals."

A little laugh bubbled up Emily's throat. "True enough."

There was another knock at the bathroom door and James cautiously opened the door. "I thought you might need these," he said, offering a bag from the nearby gas station that he had clearly just run out to get for her.

Emily took it with a small appreciative smile, pulling out a bottle of ginger ale and a package of saltines. Her smile widened, her eyes misting over as she whispered her thanks for the gesture, immediately taking a generous swig of the soda to wash the vomit taste from her mouth.

"I also made some chicken soup," he said, "Hopefully that will sit better. It was all Ally could eat for months when..." He paused, caught Alex's eye, then trailed off with a helpless shrug. "I know I haven't had the chance to say thank you yet," he continued after a moment of silence, "But you can't possibly imagine how grateful I am for the gift you're giving us."

Emily shook her head. "I'm the one who should be thankful – you're giving this baby a home, a future, a _life_. You're giving _me_ a future." She shrugged, almost shy. She stood slowly, then offered him a shaky hug that he accepted after a brief hesitation. "Thanks again for dinner," she said, turning back to Alex, eyes still soft with apology, "But I think I'm going to head to bed."

After they bade her good night and she disappeared upstairs, Alex turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What's this for?" he asked, returning the embrace.

"For being you," she said simply.

He gave a little laugh, kissed her temple. "All I did was make soup..."

"Not that," she scolded gently. "For showing an interest in the baby... I was starting to think you didn't actually want it."

He sighed quietly, ran a hand up and down her back. "I'm sorry if I haven't been fully invested. But I promise that I _do_ want this baby. I'll try harder to be a part of the process moving forwards."

Alex smiled, leaned up to kiss him. "You're going to be a wonderful dad," she murmured against his lips.


	11. Chapter 11

There was a sharp knock on Alex's bedroom door, startling her awake. She sat up from where she'd been sprawled across the bed in James' absence, stretching out the kinks in her spine.

"Alex?" came Emily's small sleepy voice through the door after a moment's hesitation, immediately sending a frisson of panic down Alex's spine, mind immediately going to all the worst possible scenarios that might warrent Emily waking her up in the middle of the night.

"Come in," she called, trying not entirely successfully to keep her voice level and panic free. She combed a hand through her sleep-mussed hair, suddenly aware that Emily had only ever seen her at her professional best (and trying not to analyze why she cared so much...).

Emily opened the door a crack, peeking her own sleep-mussed head inside. "Did I wake you?" she asked, guilt flashing in her eyes. She offered an apologetic smile.

"No, no," she lied, then yawned, betraying it. "Is everything alright? Do you need a doctor?" (Of course James wasn't home when they needed him, she silently cursed.)

Emily shook her head, crossed the room on tiptoe. "I'm fine," she insisted, flashed a small reassuring smile. Then, again, "I'm _fine_." Primly, she sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed for Alex's hand, placing it firmly on her belly before she could react.

After a moment or two of wide-eyed waiting, there was movement beneath her palm – like little popcorn pops – faint enough she could almost convince herself she imagined it.

"There!" Emily exclaimed, eager grin splitting her face, "Did you feel that?" She turned to Alex, waiting for her to feel it, to react.

The movement came again, stronger than before.

"Is that...?" Alex whispered, barely breathing at all, hardly daring to hope she was feeling the baby – _her_ baby – move for the first time.

"He's kicking," Emily confirmed, beaming.

For a few moments, Alex chased the movement across the swell of Emily's belly, an identical smile crossing her lips as they shared this moment. Then, she paused, looked up at her quizzically. "He?" she repeated.

Emily's smile turned bashful. "Just a feeling," she said with a shrug, hoping her maternal instincts weren't going to disappoint her.

Alex nodded knowingly. She opened her mouth to say something, then faltered; with a deep breath, she worked up the courage again, confessing, "Before my hysterectomy, I was pregnant once. I knew it was going to be a boy from the moment I found out." She paused, choked, eyes misty.

"What happened?" Emily asked softly, reverently. "I mean...if you want to tell me."

Alex's hand halted its movement. "Halfway through the pregnancy, the doctor said his kidneys hadn't formed and had caused him to stop developing. They decided to induce labour and at twenty-two weeks, he was stillborn." She was silent for a very long time. "I never got to feel him kick."

"I'm sorry," she breathed, knowing the words would never be enough, but they were all she had to offer. Her hand landed softly on Alex's where it rested on her belly, squeezed it gently as little feet continued to kick away beneath. "What did you name him?" she whispered.

"Oliver Avery," Alex said with the faintest smile. "We were going to name him Oliver Ethan, but he looked like a little Fae child, so we picked Avery instead. It means 'Elf Ruler'."

Emily mirrored her smile. "I like the name Ethan," she said after a moment. She wanted to reach out, to hug her, but wasn't sure it was entirely appropriate, so she held back.

Alex nodded, gaze distant, unfocused. "What would you name him...if you were keeping him?"

"Matthew," she answered without hesitation. "I had a friend in Rome named Matthew...he changed my life – made me believe I was worthy of love, friendship..." She trailed off, shook her head, almost embarrassed.

The two were silent for a long time, until Emily grunted, rubbed her belly. "He's kicking my bladder." She flashed a smile, a wink. "I hope this kid is cute because he's a pain in the ass."

That got a genuine smile out of her.

* * *

"I want to visit Ollie," Alex announced the next night over dinner. Emily was at the library doing research, leaving the couple alone, though it wasn't as romantic as it might've sounded, as they'd spent most of the meal silent picking at their respective dishes, hardly making eye contact, let alone conversation.

"What?" James asked, looking up from his plate sharply, brow raised almost skeptically. "Why?"

"I need a reason to visit my child's grave?"

He held his hands up in surrender, knowing better than to step on that landmine. "Of course not. I only meant, why now? You haven't been in months – what's brought on the sudden urge?"

She started at him almost incredulously for a moment as if trying to decide whether the question was serious. "We're about to be parents again...doesn't that make you think of him?"

"I'm not sentimental like that," he said with a shrug. "I don't need to visit his remains to be close to him."

"Could you not talk about him like that?" she asked with a scowl.

"Like what?" he asked, confused by her abrupt reaction.

"'Remains'," she repeated. "Like he's one of your cadavers, rather than our son."

"It's not our son, though," he pointed out. "Everything that made him _our son_ is gone."

"You don't think I know that?" she said, voice choked with emotion. "But his grave is all I have left – I want to visit him, to remember him."

"I don't need to visit a headstone to remember him."

Alex could feel her eyes growing red with barely contained tears. "I want to visit his grave," she repeated, "And I want you to come with me."

"If it's that important to you, I'll go," he conceded.

"Don't do me any favours," she snapped. "I just thought it might be nice for his father to be there when I tell him he's going to be a big brother."

"Ally..." he said gently.

She stood from the table abruptly, not giving him the chance to finish.


	12. Chapter 12

"I thought James was going to come?"

The question was innocent enough, though Emily would be lying if she said she wasn't entirely displeased that he was absent. He was a good man and she knew he'd be a good father...she just didn't _like_ him. Or, rather, she didn't like the way he seemed to constantly let Alex down. She deserved better.

Alex hummed a note of displeasure. "He took an extra shift," she said with a determinedly level voice. If Emily hadn't known her quite as well as she did, she might have missed the sadness that flashed through her eyes for the briefest of moments.

"Oh..." she said quietly, unsure how to respond without accidentally saying something that might come off as unkind towards the man she obviously loved (even if Emily wasn't entirely sure _why_ ). She shifted uncomfortably on the exam table, paper crinkling noisily underneath her.

Alex shook her head, plastered on a false smile clearly honed by years of practice. "It doesn't matter."

Emily opened her mouth to say that it _did_ matter, but she could tell from her expression that she'd rather not talk about it, so she let the matter go, no matter how much she might want to say what she truly thought. "Are you excited?" she asked, "To see your baby?"

That got a genuine smile out of her at last. "I could barely sleep last night."

"Me too," Emily said with a laugh. "But that may have been because your kid was playing soccer with my organs." She'd stopped thinking of it as _her_ baby weeks ago.

Alex's smile softened just that little bit with the reminder that this baby truly was _hers_. "Hopefully the little one didn't move around too much, so we don't have a problem finding out the gender." Emily maintained that it was a boy, but she was eager for the confirmation.

"Hear that, kiddo?" Emily spoke to her stomach, prodding it gently. "Quit moving around in there or you're in big trouble."

"Don't listen to her," Alex leaned down and whispered to her belly. She was rewarded with a small movement in response to her voice. "I could never be mad at you."

"That's because your organs aren't being used for target practice," Emily retorted, then immediately winced, regretting her words. "I'm sorry...that was thoughtless."

Alex shook her head, offered a faint smile, but said nothing.

Emily bit her lip, opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. She was prone to sticking her foot in her mouth, but she hoped this particularly spectacular incident hadn't offended too badly.

* * *

"Are you happy?" Emily asked, swallowing a mouthful of ice cream with a contented little hum (they'd stopped on the way home to satisfy her craving for cookie dough ice cream).

Alex nodded, wrestled with a particularly brilliant smile. "I was hoping for a boy," she admitted, losing the battle, smile lighting up her face.

"I told you it would be." She gestured at her with her spoonful of ice cream. An errant drip made its way down her arm and she licked it off with a playful smile.

Alex missed her goofy grin, glancing down at her phone for the tenth time with a disappointed sigh.

Emily frowned. "He still hasn't responded?" she asked needlessly.

For a moment, her eyes were sad, then she shook herself out of her trance, decidedly putting whatever issues she might have with her husband aside and changed the subject, "Why didn't you tell me we missed your birthday?"

"What?" Emily choked on her ice cream. "Oh, I, umm... I don't really celebrate."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "No one to celebrate with," she said simply, without explaining that she didn't actually have any friends and couldn't exactly go out to a bar in her current condition anyway.

"You have me," Alex replied without a moment's hesitation.

"But you're, you know, my professor and my baby mama...isn't that a little weird?"

Alex nearly choked on her own ice cream at that. "Please never call me that again."

Emily smiled mischievously around her spoon. Then, she bargained, "Only if you promise not to throw me a birthday party."

She seemed about to argue when her phone rang, a grim look crossing her face as her husband's name flashed across the screen. Emily tried not to listen as she answered the call, her voice decidedly unhappy, but it was hard not to eavesdrop...

"How could you miss this appointment?" Alex demanded, "You promised you'd be there!" A pause. "I don't care! You said you'd be there and you _deliberately_ weren't!" She stood from the table with an apologetic smile, taking several steps away for some semblance of privacy.

Even though she'd done nothing wrong, Emily felt a surge of guilt, like she'd somehow caused the growing rift between them.

"That doesn't _matter_ ," Alex insisted, voice rising, "You _knew_ that this was important to me – to _us –_ and you _chose_ not to be there. Do you want this baby or not?" Another pause. "Then act like it! Like it matters to you, like _I_ matter to you..."

Her voice rose sharply then, "Maybe you shouldn't come home then – until you figure out what's really important to you and whether you really want to be a part of this family!"

Then, she hung up. When she sat back down, her eyes were red and puffy with unshed tears.

For a few moments, Emily faltered, unsure what to say, what to do. She reached over to gently squeeze her hand that was still tightly clasped around her phone. "Is there... Is there anything I can do?"

"I'd really rather forget about it."

Emily sighed sadly, searched for something to say that wouldn't feel hollow.

"I feel so stupid..." Alex whispered suddenly, almost apropos of nothing.

"This isn't your fault," Emily insisted. "I think sometimes adoption is just harder for some people – it's less real, in a way. But when the baby comes, he'll come around, I'm sure."

Alex nodded slowly, a few errant tears escaping. "I'm sure you're right, I just... I feel so alone in this."

"You have me," she whispered. She brushed the hair away from her face where it stuck to her tear-stained cheeks. Then, and she couldn't have said why, she leaned in to capture her lips in a tender kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

They didn't talk about the kiss.

Not then, not later. Which Emily was extremely thankful for because she honestly had no idea why she'd done it. Other than that she was pregnant and emotional and had a long history of making bad decisions.

Which, really, was why she was in this mess in the first place...

And she had no intention of continuing to make other people suffer the consequences of her fucked up decision making process. Or, at the very least, she was going to stop kissing other people's wives.

There was a knock on her bedroom door and Alex poked her head inside. "Emily, can you..." She trailed off upon catching sight of her. "Are you going somewhere?"

Emily paused in the middle of packing a bag, looking rather like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, I..." She looked down at the floor, embarrassed. She hadn't thought about how she was going to break the news, how Alex would take it. "I thought that maybe it would be best if I stayed somewhere else for awhile."

Alex looked surprised, then saddened. "Is this because of...?"

"Don't say it," Emily interrupted, eyes shut tight as if in anticipation of a blow. She sighed. "Maybe. A little. I don't know..." She shook her head, tongue flicking out over her top lip. "It just feels like ever since I came into your life, I've just been ruining everything."

"Emily, no..." Alex insisted. "You haven't ruined anything. You're giving me – _us –_ your _baby_. That's...that's the opposite of ruination."

"What about your marriage?" she pressed. "It seems like since I came along, all you do is fight. I don't want to be the cause of that."

Alex sighed. "I'll admit, there have been some...growing pains. But I think that's natural. We're preparing for a big change and that can be scary. I'm sure even if we were having a baby ourselves, there would be disagreements."

"But..." Emily started to argue.

Alex reached over to tighten her hand on Emily's where it was clasped on the bag handle. "But I want you to stay."

"Are you sure?"

Alex caught her gaze, wanting her to see just how certain she was. "I love being so involved in the pregnancy, bonding with this baby, and I'd hate to lose that chance because James and I can't be adults. And because..."

"Still don't say it..."

"Please stay."

Emily bit her lip, debating for a moment, but Alex seemed so genuine in her reassurances and she didn't really _want_ to go anyway, so she nodded, attempted a faint smile. "Thanks," she whispered, almost shy.

"Anything." She pulled her hand away sharply as if it had suddenly occurred to her that it was still wound around Emily's. Then, she seemed to remember what she'd come for. "You should come downstairs – there's something I want to show you."

When she made it down the stairs (it was getting harder to manoeuvre now that her belly was getting bigger), there was a kid who couldn't be more than fifteen wearing a party hat and looking incredibly awkward sitting at the dining room table. He raised one hand in a half-hearted wave, but said nothing.

Emily turned to Alex with a raised brow. "You said no birthday party..."

"Oh, it's not a birthday party," Alex insisted. "It's an adoption shower."

Emily gave a snort of amusement. "Sneaky," she muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

Alex shrugged like it was out of her hands, but her smile said she was all too proud of her work-around. Remembering their guest, she introduced, "This is Spencer – he's one of my new students."

"Really?" She glanced back at him in surprise. "I haven't seen you in any of the undergrad lectures."

"Oh, I, umm...I'm a grad student," he squeaked. "I just transferred here from Caltech."

"He doesn't really know anyone here yet, so I invited him for cake," Alex explained. "I didn't know who else to invite, so..."

"Are you suggesting my only friend is my professor?" Emily asked. She pursed her lips, thought on it, deciding, "Sad, but true."

"That's not what I was..." Alex started to backpedal, but Emily waved off her concern good-naturedly.

"You mentioned cake?" Emily said brightly, the thought suddenly occurring to her. "I'm _starving_."

"You had lunch two hours ago," Alex pointed out.

"Nutritionists recommend pregnant women eat six smaller meals a day and drink twelve to thirteen cups of water to combat excessive hunger. You actually only need an additional 350 calories in the second trimester and 500 in the third to accommodate the needs of the fetus," Spencer rambled. "Many women tend to find that their appetite actually drops off in the last months of pregnancy as the uterus pushes the stomach aside where it has less room to hold food."

Emily stared at him in silence for a moment, mouth hanging open slightly. "How do you know that? And why?"

He shrugged, realizing that might be considered odd knowledge for him to have. "I have an eidetic memory," he said by way of explanation. "I can read a medical textbook in under an hour."

"Really?" she asked, impressed. "Do you know why I've been craving dirt? I was too embarrassed to ask the doctor."

"Pica in pregnancy is actually rather uncommon and the mechanism behind it isn't fully understood, but a common theory is that it's a way to get nutrients missing from..."

He was interrupted by the door bursting open. "Saluto!" a voice boomed from the doorway as David Rossi came sweeping into the room with a gift in each arm.

Emily turned to Alex, stunned by the appearance of the newest guest. "You know _David Rossi_?"

Alex laughed at her starstruck expression. "We worked together. David Rossi, Emily Prentiss – she's the grad student I told you about. Emily Prentiss, David Rossi – he enjoys bringing extravagant gifts to small get-togethers, apparently."

"It would be rude to show up empty-handed," he defended himself, setting down the gifts to give Alex a hug, kissing her cheek. "Normally, I bring wine, but I decided to forgo out of respect for the expectant mother." He paused, eyes landing on Spencer. "And the obviously underage kid."

Spencer gave another awkward wave.

Emily's stomach growled loudly then. Cheeks heating up with embarrassment, she said, "Baby really want that cake."


	14. Chapter 14

"Still awake?"

Emily, who had a mouthful of cake, struggled to swallow quickly, choking a little, as she whirled around from where she stood in front of the open refrigerator, startled by the sudden voice from behind her. "The cake was calling out to me – I was powerless to resist," she said with a helpless shrug.

Alex shook her head a little, fond smile on her lips. She didn't bother pointing out that Emily had already eaten three slices that day. "Feel like sharing?"

She pursed her lips, pretending to think on it. "I guess," she said with a long-suffering sigh. She brought another forkful of cake to her lips, letting out a contented little hum as she swallowed. When Alex raised a brow, Emily defended, "It's _really_ good cake and I'm eating for two..."

Alex just rolled her eyes playfully.

They settled at the kitchen table with the cake and two forks, several moments of amicable silence passing between them before Emily spoke up again. "Thanks," she said, staring down at the tabletop almost shyly. "For the party..."

"I thought you didn't like parties?"

She shrugged. "I don't, but... It was kind of nice in a centre-of-attention kind of way. I even enjoyed meeting that weird genius kid and it's so cool that you know David Rossi who, by the way, probably spent a thousand dollars on first edition books for my gift, even though he'd never met me before..." She paused, shook her head, pleased little smile playing about her lips. "I just...no one's cared enough to do anything like that for me in a really long time."

"I care about you, Emily," Alex reminded her vehemently. Then, she rephrased, " _We_ care about you. And not just because you're giving us your baby."

"I know," she whispered. If she had trouble believing it, well, she did have a long history of playing second fiddle to her mother's work...

"Because you're not just giving us your baby – you're giving us a family, a second chance." She squeezed Emily's hand, forcing her to meet her eyes. She smiled softly, needing Emily to see just how serious she was. "You're giving us a part of yourself, of your heart. That's a gift that can never be repaid."

Emily mused on that for a moment, unable to look away from the intensity in Alex's gaze. "You know, I didn't want this, didn't plan it, but... I can't help but feel like this is one of the best things that's happened to me. This baby is possibly the only good thing that came from my relationship with Ian." She paused. "Maybe even the only good thing to have come from me."

"Emily, that's not..." Alex started to argue. She didn't believe for one second that Emily didn't have more to offer the world.

She just shook her head. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life," she said, "But this...this doesn't feel like one. This feels like...love. You know?" Her cheeks pinked slightly, wishing she could phrase her thoughts more eloquently in front of her professor.

"It's what it feels like to be a mom," Alex said simply, knowingly.

"Oh, I'm not..."

"You _are_ ," she insisted. "No matter what happens, you'll always be a mother – _his_ mother." As if suddenly remembering something, she suddenly left the room, returning with a wrapped package. "We – well, _I –_ got you something."

"Alex, you really didn't have to – I mean, you've done so much for me already and..." Emily rambled.

Alex pressed the gift into her hands. "Open it," she said gently, a soft smile on her face.

Emily hesitated for a moment once she'd unwrapped it, looked up at Alex in awe. Her eyes got misty as she whispered, "Is this...?"

"It's a memory book," Alex finished for her. "I've already put in the ultrasound pictures – there's room for both your hospital bracelets and his little cap and lots of pictures, of course. I'm sure you'll run out of room pretty fast, though, since we'll send you so many. And I'm rambling..." She trailed off, cheeks red. "I just want you to know how committed I am to keeping you part of our son's life.

Emily just smiled, not entirely trusting herself to speak. It didn't escape her that she'd said _our_ son.

"I want him to know you, to know how much you love him to have made such a difficult choice. You're always going to be his mother. _Always_."

"I, umm..." She cleared her throat, attempted to swallow past the lump that had lodged there. "I have something for you too. Well, for him, I guess." She shrugged awkwardly as she stood from the table to fetch it. She returned from her room with a thick picture book, looking shy and almost embarrassed.

"Oh, Emily..." Alex breathed as she took the proffered gift.

"It's not much," Emily said earnestly, "But I... It's..." She trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Emily, this is _incredible_." She pressed the button on the little speaker box built into the book, Emily's voice emitting, reading the story.

_(A mother held her baby and slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth...)_

"I know _Love You Forever_ is kind of cheesy, but..."

"It's wonderful," Alex interrupted. "This is incredibly thoughtful and heartfelt. He'll love it. _I_ love it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Her smile was soft, genuine.

"I also picked out some of my favourite books from when I was growing up – the Beatrix Potter series, _A Secret Garden_ , _Where the Wild Things Are_..." She trailed off, realizing she may have gone a bit overboard. "I know with you for a mother, he's sure to grow up to be an avid reader."

"I hope you'll read them to him, on your visits..." Alex gently encouraged. They hadn't talked about visits before, but she hoped Emily would remain a part of their son's life after the birth.

"I'd really like that."

The two shared a silent tender smile for several long moments, then Alex yawned, stretched. "It's late," she reminded, gesturing at her with her fork. "And you've got lots of assignments to grade tomorrow."

Emily gave a snort of laughter. "No rest for the wicked."


	15. Chapter 15

Emily yawned, rested her head on the desk. "I've read the same sentence five times and I still have no idea what it says," she complained, voice muffled by the desk in front of her face. "I can't tell if these undergrads are getting dumber or if I just have pregnancy brain..."

"You know," Spencer started, visibly perking up, "There's no actual scientific grounds to suggest that the so-called 'pregnancy brain' phenomenon is a real thing, beyond anecdotal evidence, of course."

Emily gave an unladylike snort, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see it. "Then maybe you'd like to eat the sandwich I made myself for lunch..." she said flippantly, rummaging in her bag and passing it to him.

Spencer looked from her to the sandwich then back to her suspiciously. He lifted one slice of bread to find the sandwich empty but for a slice of cheese, still wrapped in plastic. "Okay," he admitted slowly, "Perhaps there's _some_ merit..." He glanced away from the offending sandwich, back at the essay he was grading. "These _are_ a particularly poorly written batch of essays, though," he said, returning to the original topic.

She nodded. "I thought maybe I was having a bout of spontaneous dyslexia..."

He pushed his glasses up his nose, looking like he was about to take off on another verbal tangent when he was interrupted by Emily letting out a little groan, rubbing her belly where the baby had his heels lodged firmly against her side.

Noticing Spencer watching her curiously, she raised a brow, awaiting a question. Finally, she asked, "Have you ever actually felt a baby kick?" He shook his head, seeming surprised and perhaps a little alarmed by her question. She reached over to grab his hand, placing his palm against her stomach.

"Doesn't that freak you out?" he asked, eyes comically wide as there was a ripple of movement beneath his palm.

"No, not at all. Why? Does it freak _you_ out?" she asked with a hint of amusement.

"Very much so." He withdrew his hand from her belly, looking awkward and unsure. He watched for a few moments as she prodded at her stomach in response to the baby's little kicks with a fond smile on her face. "Are you worried?"

She glanced back up at him, brow raised in confusion. "About what?"

"Having second thoughts..."

Her mouth hung open slightly for a few moments in surprise. "Second thoughts?" she repeated.

"About the adoption..." he prompted. "You'll spend nine months bonding with the baby – prenatal hormones have an evolutionary function to ensure a maternal bond with the fetus that, in the past, ensured the mother was invested in the child's survival after birth. Then, during birth, the oxytocin and prolactin that surge through the blood stream create a hormonal urge to nurture. Only, you won't have a baby to nurture... Won't that be unimaginably difficult to go through with?"

Emily looked down at her belly, gaze so soft and tender, then looked back at Spencer, shaking her head. "It's easy," she whispered. "Because it's not about me. It's about him. Alex can give him a better life than I ever could. I want that for him."

Spencer nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "My mother has schizophrenia," he admitted quietly. "When she was pregnant with me, she went off all her medication, even though the doctors warned her not to, so I'd be born healthy. She said she was terrified every single day, but it was worth it to have me..."

She offered him an understanding smile. "That's maternal instinct – everything you do is for something greater than yourself. Even the scary things, the hard things, the _painful_ things. That's why I'm not worried about second thoughts. Not even a little."

He nodded a little, as if in acceptance of that answer, even if he didn't fully understand her reasoning.

A thought seemed to occur to her then. She dug in her backpack, producing a jar of pickles. "I'm _starving_..."

Spencer gave her an almost skeptical (and perhaps a little alarmed) look.

"Ever since I got over my morning sickness, I've been eating like a hobbit," she said with a laugh. "This is my fifth meal today and it's barely 2:00." She offered him the jar, but he shook his head. She shrugged like it was his loss. "I've been craving pickles like crazy lately..."

"The reason scientists believe women crave pickles during pregnancy is because the blood volume..." he started to ramble.

"It's because they're delicious and I'm pregnant, so I eat whatever I want," she interrupted with a good-natured wink. "The first rule of pregnancy is never judge a pregnant woman's food choices."

"No judgement," he squeaked, holding his hands up as if afraid she'd hit him.

Emily just laughed. "You're not half bad, kid."

Spencer grinned, the expression a little goofy on his still babyish face. He cleared his throat, brushing his long hair behind his ears. "So, umm...Dr. Blake mentioned that you speak Russian and I heard they're playing the original Solaris in the theatres and..."

"Isn't Solaris like four hours long?" she interrupted.

"It's _five_ – the best sci-fi meditation film of all time, but for some reason, they never really show it in the theatres. Anyway, I don't know anyone else who would enjoy it, so I was wondering if you'd go with me? I mean, if you're not too busy or anything."

Emily smiled fondly. "I'd love to. Assuming we _ever_ finish grading these papers."

He thought on that for a moment. "I could finish up by myself, if you wanted to go home early..."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I read twenty thousand words a minute, so I'll be done in no time."

"Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage of..." she started to protest.

He shook his head. "It's no trouble, really."

"Spencer Reid, you're an angel and my aching back thanks you," she effused.

"Did you know that, evolutionarily speaking, the human spine wasn't designed to withstand the effects of pregnancy. In fact, biologically speaking, human babies are born extremely prematurely because the body can't..."


	16. Chapter 16

"Are you _sure_ I can't help?" Emily asked again.

"I'm sure."

Emily shook her head slightly, rocking back and forth in the rocking chair, watching Alex attempt to put together the crib. She couldn't help but think the process would go a lot faster if James were there to help, but she wasn't about to open up a wound by asking about it. "Let me do _something_ ," she begged. "Everyone keeps treating me with kid gloves just because I'm pregnant and it sucks."

"You'll have to get used to that," Alex said gently.

Emily pouted. "Nobody warns you about this side of pregnancy," she complained, "How totally not glamourous it is... My entire body hurts, I can't sleep comfortably, I look like a whale, and I'm so fucking horny all the time now..." Realizing what she'd just said, she clapped a hand over her mouth, cheeks flaming red.

For her part, Alex acted as though she hadn't heard. "Tomorrow night is Halloween, why don't you go out and have some fun?" she suggested.

"Because I'm pregnant, I can't drink, and I don't have any friends," she listed, counting the reasons off on her fingers.

"You should go out – anything you do is going to be way more fun than hanging out with an old married couple," Alex insisted.

"I like hanging out with you, though..."

Alex laughed. "Go out and be young. Stay out late. Eat too much sugar. That's an order."

* * *

Emily yawned, glanced at her watch...only nine PM. She sighed, resting her head in her hands. She wanted to go home.

"Tired already?" a voice beside her asked. "The night is still young..."

She whipped around, startled, to find an extremely attractive man around her age flashing her a million watt smile. "Oh, I just..."

"Got a pumpkin carriage to catch, Princess?" he teased.

"Princess?" she repeated, brow raised, not entirely sure what to make of him.

"Derek Morgan," he introduced himself, extending a hand for her to shake.

After a moment's hesitation, she shook it. "Emily Prentiss. What are you supposed to be?"

"Superman," he said, like it should be obvious. "I'm in disguise."

Emily laughed. "You were just too lazy to dress up, weren't you?"

He shrugged. "I'm not a big fan of Halloween. Creeps me out."

"Then why are you here?" she asked pointedly, gesturing sweepingly at the mass of costumed college students filling the bar.

"Looking for a little Halloween Honey," he said with a wink.

She nearly choked on a sip of her soda. "Halloween Honey... Now I'm creeped out."

He just laughed, reached out to tug the end of one of her braids. "I like your costume."

"To be honest, I dress like Wednesday Addams on the average day – today, it's just socially acceptable."

"Well, Princess," he said, offering a hand, "Care to dance?"

She glanced down at her belly, then back up, brow raised pointedly. "I'm not exactly light on my feet these days..."

"I don't mind," he insisted, gestured for her hand again. "Come one – just one dance?"

"You're not going to let me say no, are you?" she asked, but she was smiling, already relenting. She accepted his hand, his face lighting up with a brilliant smile. "You have to promise not to judge me, okay?"

"You have my word." Then, he spun her into his chest, making her squeal with laughter.

* * *

"Did you want to get out of here?" Derek whispered, breath hot on her ear as they danced, perhaps a little too slow for the frantic energy of a college bar.

As the night wore on, bleeding into early morning, they danced closer and closer until there was barely a breath of space between them and Emily almost hoped it would never end.

She wanted to leave with him, she really did, but... "Did you miss the part where I'm pregnant?" she asked.

"Why does it matter?" he asked. "You're gorgeous and you can't get any _more_ pregnant..." He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply and, with a breathy whimper, she parted her lips, granting him permission. When he pulled away, he said, "If you want this...I want _you_."

She leaned in for another kiss, tongue delving into his mouth, body pressed tight against his. She could feel his hard-on pressing against her and knew he wasn't lying about wanting her. And, if the heat pooling in her core was any indication, she wanted him too.

"So..." he asked, pulling back to look in her eyes, seeking out an answer to the unspoken question hanging in the air between them.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she threw caution to the wind – she was horny, he was attractive and genuinely nice, and more importantly, he felt safe. She nodded eagerly, tugging his hand, leading him in the direction of the bathroom. He raised a brow in question, but she just shook her head, flashing him a mischievous smile.

As soon as the door shut behind them, he had her pressed up against the wall, already bunching her dress up around her hips. His fingers were on her clit, rubbing her through her panties. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked again between kisses.

"I'm sure. Now, shut up and fuck me," she demanded, reaching into his jeans to stroke his cock. She let out a little whimper of anticipation as she felt the size of it in her hand.

"Yes, ma'am!" he agreed with a little laugh that turned into a moan as she flicked her thumb over the head of his cock.

She pulled back to slip off her panties and he took the opportunity to pull a condom out of his pocket and she couldn't help but giggle. "You came to this thing anticipating getting laid?" she asked. "Cocky little thing..."

He laughed. "A gentleman is always prepared." Then he was palming her breast through her dress and any smart remarks she might've had in reply were lost. "Are you ready, Princess?" he asked.

She nodded eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist as he supported her weight against the wall. "I hope you fuck as good as your over-sized ego would imply..." she teased.

"I've never had any complaints," he retorted as he lined up his cock with her entrance before pushing into her.

She cried out sharply, tossing her head back as he withdrew before pushing in to the hilt. She dug her nails into his shoulders, tightening her legs around his hips as he thrust into her like there was no tomorrow.

"Oh, Em, you feel so good," he panted. "So fucking tight..."

"Jesus, fuck," she hissed, biting down on her bottom lip. She caught his eye, the look of pure desire on his face nearly taking her breath away.

His thrusts sped up as he neared his climax and he reached down to press his thumb against her clit, bringing her to the edge moments before he came with a primal cry.

She bit down on her scream, clapping a hand over her mouth as she came to avoid being overheard.


	17. Chapter 17

"You were out really late last night," Alex remarked as she emerged into the kitchen the next morning to see Emily staring at the coffee pot like a dog stares at a steak. "You have a good time?"

Emily grunted.

"I'll take that as a yes." Then Emily turned around and Alex got a good look at the exhaustion lining her face, the leftover make up smudged around her eyes, the grim line of her lips. "Or not?"

Emily lowered herself awkwardly into a chair. "It was...nice."

"Nice?" Alex repeated skeptically. She sat across from her with a mug of coffee, feeling bad for drinking it in front of her when she so clearly wanted a cup, but couldn't have one.

Emily shrugged, struggled for an explanation that didn't make her sound slutty. "I met a guy..."

Alex arched a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Is it _that_ surprising?"

"No, of course not," she insisted quickly. "You're an incredible young woman – you're intelligent and attractive and fun – but you're also..." She gestured at Emily's belly.

Emily nodded her agreement. "It didn't seem to bother him." She didn't admit just how _little_ it had bothered him...

"That's great," Alex said with an encouraging smile. "Are you going to see him again?" She knew how traumatic her experience with Ian must have been, but hoped she wasn't going to let it define all her future relationships, not that she would have blamed her.

She chewed her lip in thought. "I don't know. He seemed really nice and he's definitely attractive, but..." She gestured aimlessly.

"But?" Alex prompted.

"I don't know that I'm ready to be...close to anyone again. Ian, he... He took a lot from me – a piece of my heart, my ability to trust." She swallowed thickly, sniffled in spite of herself. "I loved him, I really did – I'm not sorry he's gone and I'm not sorry I met him, otherwise I wouldn't have this little guy – but he basically tossed a hand grenade into my life and I don't know how to pick up the pieces."

"I think that's normal."

Emily sighed wearily. "I guess I'm a little scared to open myself up to another man like that."

"Anyone who's been through what you have would be," Alex consoled. "But maybe the first step is to make a friend, give him the chance to earn your trust."

Emily nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

"But I won't push you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I'm pregnant, there's literally nothing comfortable right now." Emily's phone chimed at that moment. "Speak of the devil..."

"Invite him out for coffee," Alex suggested gently. "Give him a chance."

* * *

"Hey," Derek greeted, dropping into the chair opposite her with his signature smile. "You look..."

"Like crap," she supplied deadpan. She'd washed off the make up, but there was no hiding the bloodshot eyes or sallow skin.

"I wasn't going to say..."

She waved off his backpedalling. "If I look half as bad as I feel, it's pretty bad," she muttered. "I can barely walk this morning, by the way."

He chuckled. "I'll gladly take the blame for that."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "There's that ego again."

"Hey!" he protested, holding up his hands in defense. "Did I not provide everything I promised?"

"I will admit it was a... _satisfying_ experience." She grinned mischievously. "It's been a _while_ since anyone's fucked me like that."

There was an awkward pause, now that someone had put voice to exactly what they'd done last night. Derek cleared his throat. "I, umm... I didn't know if you were actually going to show today. I wasn't sure you were interested in more than, you know..."

"I don't know what I want," she admitted, "But I figure coffee couldn't hurt." She offered a smile, then glanced down at her hands which were wrapped around her mug of tea. "I hope I wasn't too forward last night."

He smiled softly. "No more so than I was. My mother would be appalled if she knew."

Emily gave a snort of laughter. "Mine too."

"So," Derek said, "I'm guessing you don't have a, umm, a..." He nodded at her belly. "A _boyfriend_ , after last night?"

"That's a...a long story." She shook her head. "The gist of it is that he's long gone."

"He sounds like a real peach."

"You have no idea." She rolled her eyes. "But I do have a history of picking winners."

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not sure if he was supposed to laugh. "I take it that means you're not looking for anything serious?"

"Would you be?" she asked, gesturing at her belly pointedly.

"Touche." He glanced at his coffee for a moment. "So, what are we...?"

Emily bit her lip a little. "So, this might sound a little crazy, but how would you feel about a friends with benefits situation?" He paused just a fraction too long, so she rushed to explain, "It's okay if you're not interested, I just... I need an _outlet_ and I can't exactly, you know, do it myself while living with my professor, so..."

He reached over to rest a hand on her wrist to stop her rambling. "That actually sounds...really great."

* * *

Emily poked her head into the nursery to find Alex sprawled out on the floor looking exhausted. When she noticed Emily standing there, she gestured limply at the now fully functional crib. "Ta-da," she said weakly.

Emily laughed. "Are you okay?"

Alex flashed her a thumbs up. She pushed herself to sit up. "How did it go?"

"Good. Really good," she rushed to supply, perhaps too quickly. Alex raised a brow, but neither of them commented further.

After a pause, Alex said, "You didn't say anything about the crib." She winked to show she was only kidding.

Emily laughed. "The crib looks amazing. I can't believe you put it together by yourself – even though I wanted to help." She settled on the floor beside her, flopping back, exhausted. As she lay there, staring up at Alex, a realization dawned on her: she had a crush on her son's adoptive mother.

Sensing Emily looking at her, Alex met her gaze. "What?"

Emily shook her head. "You're going to be an amazing mother," she said, almost apropos of nothing.

Alex smiled softly. "I hope so."


	18. Chapter 18

Alex announced her presence by knocking on the door to Emily's room. "Hey, so, weird question..."

Emily looked up from her laptop where she was working on her dissertation. She stretched out her neck, her shoulders, her back, then fixed Alex with a quizzical look.

"How do you feel about Kansas City?"

"You're going to have to give me a little more to go on," Emily said, brow lifted in confusion.

"Well, my family invited James and I for Thanksgiving and I thought it might be nice for you to join us so they can get to know you," Alex explained, looking hopeful.

"Really?" Emily asked, surprised.

"If you're not comfortable with that, I'd understand," she backpedalled, "You're free to spend the weekend alone or celebrate with your family."

Emily snorted at that last part. "I'd rather eat scissors." She shook her head, rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it be weird if I came with you?" she asked, "I mean..." She gestured widely to emphasize everything about the situation.

"It won't be weird," Alex insisted. "You're a part of the family now and that includes coming to big family events." She must've still looked hesitant because Alex said, "Please come."

* * *

In Emily's mind, the best case scenario for this Thanksgiving dinner was stilted uncomfortable conversation and being gawked at like an exotic bird. (Not that that would've been much different from a dinner spent with her mother.)

In spite of Alex's promise, she hadn't actually expected to be _welcome_. The Miller family, as it turned out, was nothing she expected...

Mrs. Miller passed Emily a second plate of pumpkin pie heaped with whipped cream with such a maternal smile she couldn't help but accept it. "You really don't have to..." she began to protest, even though her mouth was watering.

Mrs. Miller patted her cheek gently. "You're carrying my grandson, Dear, extra pie will make him sweet and chubby," she insisted. "Eat up!"

Emily laughed. "Yes, ma'am!" And she dug into the pie with gusto. "Can I at least help with the dishes?" she asked, swallowing down her mouthful of pie.

"No, you may not," Mr. Miller replied, "That's Alex's job."

"How many years do I have to not live here before it's no longer considered _my job_?" Alex protested with a laugh. Scott replied by yelling something rude from the kitchen. "I heard that!" Alex called back, standing up to, Emily assumed, beat him up.

Emily chuckled, shook her head. "Is this what siblings are like?"

Mr. Miller grinned. " _Worse_ ," he replied, "They're actually on their best behaviour today."

Emily smiled fondly. "Is it weird I want that for my baby?" Then, she faltered. "I mean, obviously he's not _my_ baby, I only meant..." She shook her head, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Emily..." he said slowly, brow creasing, "Is this really what you want? To give up your baby?"

"Of course it is!" she rushed to insist. "Alex is going to be a wonderful mother. There's no one I'd rather give my baby to."

He nodded, but she wasn't sure he believed her. "You just seem...sad."

Emily sighed. "Of course I wish I was able to parent him – he's a part of me," she confessed, "But that doesn't meant I'm any less certain about adoption."

"I just want to be certain that you know what you're getting into. I know you have seventy-two days to back out after the birth, but you'll break Alex's heart if you do. She's waited so long to have a child, she's bonded with this baby..." He shook his head. "She already loves him."

"I know," Emily insisted. "I have no delusions, I know this will be hard, but I'm not doing this for me."

He nodded again, apparently satisfied, but that did nothing to quell the sudden guilt that clawed its way into Emily's mind, even though she'd done nothing wrong.

She was saved any further interrogation by Mrs. Miller returning to the room. "Emily, Dear, do you happen to have any baby pictures?" she asked with faux innocence.

Emily smiled, already fond of the older woman. "My mother didn't take a lot of pictures when I was growing up," she said apologetically. "But to answer your next question, I looked like a china doll until I was five."

"And what about the father? What's he look like?"

"Blond hair, blue eyes – he's from a long line of Irish blood, though, so there's definitely some redhead genes there." She couldn't help the small wistful look that crossed her face because even though she hated Ian, a small part of her missed him.

"Speaking of the father..." Mr. Miller started.

Emily felt herself blanch, struggled to find an excuse. She was once again saved by Alex returning to the room, drying her hands on a dish towel. "Dad!" she snapped, "What did I say about interrogating the poor girl?" She turned to Emily. "You look like you could use a rest. Did you want me to show you to the spare room?"

Emily smiled her thanks, grateful for the escape.

Once they were alone, Alex gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about my dad. He's old-school, he isn't sure he trusts open adoption. It's nothing to do with you."

"Do you trust me?" she asked suddenly. She settled on the spare bed, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day down to her bones.

"What?" Alex asked, taken aback.

"Just something he said..." she explained. "Are you afraid I won't go through with it?"

"Emily," Alex said, gentle but firm, "This is _your_ baby. And if you decide tomorrow that you'd rather parent, that's your decision. Yes, it will be disappointing and yes, it will hurt, but it doesn't mean I won't support that decision. I care about you, Emily, not just because of your baby."

"I'm scared," Emily admitted for the first time, frightened tears springing to her eyes unbidden.

Alex sat next to her on the bed, rested a hand on her knee. "Of what?"

"Wanting him..." she whispered, looking at her hands where she was picking her nails. "I'm afraid that I'm going to see him for the first time and something inside me is just going to, I know know, _break_. That I'm going to feel this connection and not be able to let him go. I'm afraid of changing my mind and hurting you."

Alex tenderly stroked an errant lock of hair behind Emily's ear. "You're not going to hurt me," she promised.

"But you love him..."

"I do," she agreed. "But I want what's best for him. If you think that's to stay with you, I won't stand in your way. I'll support you either way."

"Why?" Emily asked, "Why would you do that for me?"

"It takes a village, right?"

Emily offered a shaky smile. "I think you're the best thing that could have happened to us. You're going to be a great mom."

Alex squeezed her hand, kissed her temple. "You should rest."


	19. Chapter 19

"How was your Thanksgiving?" Emily asked as she curled into Derek's side, head rested on his chest, as they basked in the post-coital afterglow. She was still panting, more out of breath than usual, lung space quickly being taken up by the growing baby.

He pulled the top sheet over top of them from where it had been tangled at the foot of the bed, then wrapped an arm around her as he settled back. "I'm saving my time off to go to Chicago to see my mom for Christmas, so I went out for beers with some of the other guys on the force who didn't have plans."

"That sounds...depressing." She winked, only teasing – mostly.

He laughed. "Maybe a little," he agreed. "What about you? How was Kansas City?"

"I ate so much pie," she said dreamily, mouth watering a little at the memory. She realized that probably wasn't what he'd meant, though, so she added, "I don't think her father likes me very much..."

"Why not? Is it because you've got a side piece?" He waggled his brows teasingly.

"You're an ass," she scolded, slapping his chest lightly. "He's afraid I'm going to back out of the adoption."

"He's probably just being cautious," Derek replied. "You know how dads are – they're overprotective of their kids. I'm sure you want the same thing for your kiddo."

She made a dubious noise, pursing her lips in thought.

"What's that mean?" he coaxed, not judging, simply curious.

She sighed. "I just... I'm not sure how I feel about Alex's husband."

"You don't think he's going to be a good father?"

She shrugged a little, wavered. "I'm sure he will be...when he's there. I just don't know how much that's going to be. I mean, he's a doctor – and I respect that – but he's so busy with work most of the time that I've barely even seen him."

"Maybe he's just banking time off for when the baby comes?" he suggested, devil's advocate.

"Maybe," she mused. "But what if he's _not_? I grew up with parents who were never there, always playing second fiddle to their work, and it _sucked_. They missed dance recitals and school plays and even my high school graduation. I always wondered why they didn't love me enough to want to be there, how I could be a better daughter. I don't want my baby to grow up like that, always feeling second best."

He tenderly stroked her shoulder. "So, what? You're rethinking?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I know Alex is going to be a good mother. She deserves this baby."

"Then what are you going to do?"

She sighed softly. "I wish I knew."

* * *

Emily groaned, sat up in bed, wincing. Something felt decidedly not right. She stood to go to the bathroom and immediately felt a gush from between her legs. "Fuck," she hissed, looking down to find blood seeping out from the leg of her pyjama shorts. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

She glanced over at the alarm clock beside the bed. "Fuck!"

She'd stayed home that day because she was running a slight fever and Alex had insisted she sleep it off, in spite of Emily's insistence that she was fine. And now, Alex was at work and she was having an obstetric crisis and she was officially panicking. She had no idea what to do and...

It occurred to her then that James was home, sleeping after a long night shift. And as much as she didn't trust him, she was really scared that she was about to lose this baby and he was a doctor – if anyone knew what to do, it would be him.

"James?" she called out, knocking on the bedroom door. Then, louder, "James? I think I'm in labour..."

There was a long pause, followed by muffled movement behind the door, then he emerged from the bedroom, wiping sleep from his eyes. He proceeded to gently palpate her belly, frown creasing his brow. "No uterine contractions," he assessed, "You're not in labour."

"I'm _bleeding_ ," she insisted. "My belly hurts and my heart is racing..."

He took her pulse, his look of concern deepening, then felt her forehead. "You're running a fever – could be an infection. We'd best get you to the hospital, just to be safe."

She studied his face for several moments, reading him easily. "You're worried," she said. It wasn't a question.

He hesitated briefly, then nodded once. "Concerned," he admitted.

"Do you think I'm going to lose this baby?" she asked slowly, seriously. He hesitated again. "Be honest."

"There's a chance," he said slowly. "If it's an infection, depending on the type and how far it's progressed, you may lose it, yes."

" _Him_ ," she corrected.

"Him."

She couldn't help herself, the tears that sprung to her eyes. She clapped one hand over her mouth to keep the desperate frightened cry inside. She must have been shaking because James was helping her to sit, then. As she struggled to breathe from crying so hard, his hand came to rest on her back, gently stroking up and down.

"It's going to be okay," he said, though it sounded awkward and stilted, like he was out of practice in this role. "Even if, for whatever reason, they have to induce you, the baby stands a very good chance of surviving outside the womb – greater than ninety-five percent – thought he will require a long NICU stay. But we'll do everything in our power to make sure it doesn't come to that."

Emily's breath hitched with sobs. "We?" she asked quietly.

"Well, I can't treat you directly, but I'm going to ensure that the very best doctors are treating you and the baby," he vowed. She attempted a watery smile, but it must have come across as more of a grimace because he gently squeezed her shoulder. "But I'm sure it's just a simple infection and it will be cleared out with a course of antibiotics."

She threw her arms around him in a shaky hug, grateful for the comfort, even if it wasn't from Alex.


	20. Chapter 20

Alex knocked on the recovery room door, almost timidly. She wasn't sure what state she'd find Emily in, given just how utterly terrified and guilty she was feeling going into the induction. Not that she could blame her...it was far, far too early for the baby to have come, but they'd had little choice.

To be entirely honest, Alex was every bit as frightened as Emily, but struggling to remain strong for her sake, though Emily almost certainly knew that, given the shaky quality to the hug Alex had given her as they started the pitocin.

At the sound of Alex's approach, Emily pretended she was asleep. She really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, to have anyone mollify her by telling her that it hadn't been her fault. She wouldn't believe them anyway. She heard footsteps cross the room, a body sink into the nearby chair, knew Alex wasn't buying the act.

"It's only me," Alex whispered, which was, in fact, some consolation. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Emily sighed, gave up the pretense of sleep. She turned her head to look at Alex, looked at her in silence for a moment as if weighing how much she could safely share, then answered, "I feel...empty."

Alex didn't have a response to that, to the raw hollow agony in Emily's eyes. She wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but didn't think she was in the place to hear it. "Emily..." she murmured. But there was nothing to say, so instead, she swept Emily into a tight embrace.

For a moment, she stiffened, but with a shuddering breath, she let all the tension she'd been holding in for the past twenty-four hours bleed out of her. When Alex released her, Emily let out a shuddering breath, sinking her teeth into her lip to keep in a sob. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is all my fault."

"No, Emily, no," Alex insisted. "You didn't do this. Things like this just happen..."

"Have you seen him?" Emily interrupted, voice quiet and listless.

"I have," Alex said, understanding the motives behind the question perhaps better than Emily understood them. "He's small, but he's definitely your son."

"Really?" she whispered, hopeful for reasons she couldn't have articulated.

"I know because he's a fighter – he clearly wants to be here." When she didn't respond, Alex continued, "We've decided to name him Ethan Matthew. After your friend." She offered a smile that Emily didn't return.

"Thanks...that's really sweet." She meant it, but couldn't quite muster the expression to go along with the sentiment.

"Why don't you come see him?" Alex gently coaxed. "The doctors say it's good for both of you."

"I can't," she insisted, "I just... I can't."

"I won't force you if you're not comfortable," Alex soothed, "But I think you should. It will help you heal. And it's good for him."

"Have... Have you held him?"

She nodded. "Just for a little while – he's hooked up to a lot of machines, but skin-to-skin contact is good for him."

"Isn't it terrifying?" Emily pressed. "I mean, he's only two and a half pounds..."

"A little, at first," she admitted. "But you get used to it. It's no different than holding a full-term baby."

"I've never done that either..." The laugh she let out was a touch hysterical at the overwhelming sense of inadequacy she felt just then.

"At least come and see him," Alex urged. "Then, if you're feeling okay, you can touch him. We'll go at your pace."

Emily searched her eyes, finding quiet concern there, but also conviction – no matter what happened, she wasn't walking away from this baby. Or Emily.

* * *

When they arrived at the NICU, James was standing over the incubator, hand resting on the baby's tiny chest, affection like Emily had never seen on his face. She wondered if he'd finally come around on the idea of being a father now that the baby was actually _there_.

When he noticed their approach, he offered Emily a small smile. "How do you feel?" he asked her.

"Been better," she replied, really wishing people would stop asking her that. Her eyes kept darting over to the incubator with something like wariness or perhaps outright fear.

"He's just woken," he said, "I'm sure he's eager to see you. I'll give you two some time alone." He gave Alex a kiss on the cheek, whispered something in her ear, then left the two of them alone with the baby.

"He looks so frail," Emily said softly, eyes never leaving the baby as she approached, looking like she was headed to the gallows.

"The doctor says he's perfectly healthy for this stage," Alex assured her, "He just hasn't had time to develop fat deposits that a full-term baby has, but he'll catch up with time."

"He does look like me, though," Emily added slowly, thoughtfully.

Alex smiled encouragingly, nodded. "Do you want to touch him?"

Emily whipped her head around, eyes wide in fear. "I don't want to hurt him..."

"You won't. It's good for him. Just put your hand on his chest – it simulates swaddling." When she still looked trepidatious, Alex added, "I promise."

Not even trying to hide the shaking of her hand, Emily reached into the incubator, her palm coming to rest on the baby's tiny chest. She wasn't even she sure was breathing as she waited to feel his heartbeat, waiting for confirmation that he really was _real_.

When she felt those first few beats, a little sob squeaked past her lips, surprising her. Then his chest rose and fell with his breath and tears sprung to her eyes. She wasn't trying to hold herself together, knew it was a lost cause.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked gently, one hand coming to rest on Emily's shoulder.

She nodded slowly, then shook her head. "I don't know." She stroked his little cheek with her thumb. "Are you sure you want this? I mean, won't it be incredibly hard to handle a baby in the NICU? And what if he has health problems?"

"He's our son," Alex answered easily, eyes so full of love as she looked at the baby.


	21. Chapter 21

"Morning, Princess," Derek greeted, brandishing a bouquet of flowers and his million watt smile as he entered her hospital room. "How do you feel?"

She'd asked him not to come to the hospital, not wanting him to see her so weak (and also not wanting to explain their friends-with-benefits relationship to Alex), but neither of them was very good at doing what they were told so she wasn't all that surprised that he'd showed up anyway.

"Like I want people to stop asking me that," she said pointedly, but without heat, knowing he was just being polite. She offered him a smile of thanks as he set the flowers on a nearby table. "Like a failure..." she answered more truthfully after a moment of silence.

He settled on the edge of the bed next to her, clasped her hand, brought it up to kiss her knuckles. "You're not a failure," he insisted.

"If he doesn't make it, it'll be my fault," she whispered, surprising herself with how suddenly her mask of confidence had deteriorated.

"No, Em, no." He rested a hand against her cheek, forced her to look at him. "It's not your fault. But he's going to be just fine – babies are born prematurely all the time and they grow up to lead normal healthy lives."

Emily sniffled, tongue flicking out over her lip, then shook her head slightly. "When I found out I was pregnant, I did everything I could to make sure I had a healthy baby and a _happy_ baby. I stopped drinking, stopped smoking – which, by the way, was Hell on Earth – I stopped eating ramen for breakfast...and now..." She let out a shaky breath. "I did everything I possibly could and I still couldn't keep him safe."

"There's nothing you could have done," he soothed, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "And one day he's going to know that – that you did the best you possibly could. And when you see him running around and playing and being a regular kid, you'll know that too."

She leaned into his touch in spite of herself. "It's just... It's just hard to believe that when he's hooked up to so many machines."

He could tell she didn't really want to talk about it anymore, afraid she would break down completely, so he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "I brought you a gift."

"You already got me flowers," she pointed out, but she smiled softly, secretly pleased by his affections.

He shrugged, pressing the wrapped gift into her hands anyway. "I like spoiling you, Princess." He watched her unwrap it, then stare at the gift with reverence, mouth hanging open slightly, unable to form words. "It's a first edition," he explained to fill the awestruck silence.

"I can't accept this," she said, attempting to hand it back to him. "It's too much."

"It's a gift," he repeated. "I know you love Vonnegut and I thought you could use a reminder of the Tralfamadorian philosophy when things get hard...like right now."

"So it goes," she whispered. She looked up at him, offered a small but genuine smile. "Thank you. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me."

"I also got a gift for the baby. It's not much, but I figured we could start him on Vonnegut early..." he explained, passing her a copy of _Sun, Moon, Stars_. He could see her getting emotional again, so he once again changed the subject, "So, is childbirth really as bad as my mom says?"

She glared at him.

* * *

After seven days in the hospital, they released her with a course of antibiotics and orders to see a counsellor to deal with the traumatic birth and the struggle of adoption – orders she had every intention of ignoring.

Truthfully, she _was_ miserable, knew the months ahead would be a struggle. But she wasn't about to let anyone know just how deeply the events of the last year had cut her. She couldn't risk having any kind of psych record, if things were to go according to plan.

But for now, she played along, not wanting Alex to worry.

"Do you need any help?" Alex asked, watching Emily stare at the staircase like it was her personal Everest.

Emily shook her head, not wanting to be seen as helpless. Gingerly, she attempted the first step, but couldn't quite lift her foot that high. She let out a small huffing breath through her nose, attempted it a second time. "I'll be..." She paused, winced as she managed to get her foot on the step with great difficulty. "...fine."

"Can I help you get anything set up in your room?" Alex pressed, "I'm sure you won't want to attempt these stairs again and I don't want you getting hurt."

Emily offered an appreciative smile. "I really just want to fall into bed and sleep," she said. "For about three days."

"You deserve the rest after this last week. But just in case, I'll bring up some water and snacks," Alex insisted.

"Are you going back to the hospital?" Emily asked as Alex moved through the room, making sure she had everything she could possibly need within reach.

Alex had been spending as much time as possible in the NICU with Ethan. She had Spencer teaching her undergrad classes as much as possible and her mother had flown in from Kansas City to help around the house. Emily couldn't help but feel guilty for delivering early and throwing everyone's lives into such chaos.

She herself had only seen the baby the one time, unable to withstand the guilt of seeing his fragile state without breaking down completely. When Alex had asked, she'd lied and said she wanted to give her and James the chance to bond with Ethan as much as possible...she wasn't sure she'd believed her, but neither of them had said anything further about the lie.

Alex nodded. "For a few hours, at least. Will you be alright on your own? I can stay if you..."

"I'm okay," she interrupted. "He needs you more."

Alex had offered her a soft smile, but it was easy to see the worry behind it. "If you need anything, just call."

She nodded, smiled. Once she heard the door click shut behind Alex as she left to return to the hospital, Emily reached for her cell phone.

"I've been waiting for your call," Clyde said by way of answering after only one ring.

"What made you so certain I'd call?" she countered. She couldn't help but smile at the easy bantering.

"They always do..."

"Just to be clear," she said, rolling her eyes, "I'm not calling because I want to have sex with you."

He chuckled. "We'll see."

"Hey, I just had a baby, I've got at least a five month moratorium on all men," she countered. "But back to why I called..."

"You want the job," he finished for her.

"You seem awfully sure of yourself," she replied, even though he was right.

"You were always going to accept the job," he insisted. "I could see it in your eyes – you crave more from life than linguistic research."

"I highly doubt it was my _eyes_ you were looking at," she muttered.

He laughed, but didn't disagree. "So, when should I book your flight to London?"

For a long moment, Emily was silent, staring at the framed ultrasound photo on the nightstand. She faltered, shut her eyes tight, reminding herself of all the reasons she'd chosen adoption, how much easier this would all be if she didn't have to spend every second knowing her son was so close, but she couldn't have him.

Alex had promised that they'd keep her involved in his life and initially, that had been everything she wanted. Now, though, after she'd thought on it more, it just seemed...painful.

She wanted to be there for all those important moments in his life, to be there so that her son always knew where he'd come from. She wanted a lot of things.

But the things she wanted, she wasn't going to get.

"I graduate in May," she answered before she knew she was going to speak.

She could almost hear the cocky grin on his face. "I look forward to working with you..."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter. I know most of you aren't going to like it, but believe me when I say it's all for a good reason. If you guys are interested, I'm planning on writing one - possibly two - sequels. I haven't started them yet, but I'm hoping y'all will inspire me and motivate me to get moving on it.

Ethan was released from the hospital just in time for Emily's graduation.

The ceremony would have been far too long for the baby, though (not that she'd been planning on attending anyway), so she decided to forgo it, in favour of spending time with her son. Instead, Alex had gotten her to agree to a small party to celebrate both her graduation and Ethan coming home.

(She didn't tell Alex it would also be her going away party...)

* * *

Alex knocked gently on the door to Emily's room, poked her head inside. "Emily, can I...?" she started to ask, faltered. "Are you packing?"

Emily turned, startled. She offered Alex a chagrined smile...this wasn't how she'd wanted to break the news. "Yeah..." she stammered, "I, umm, I meant to tell you."

"Tell me what?" she asked. It was clear in her voice that she was trying to reserve judgement, to be positive and supportive, but was struggling. She crossed the room, skirting around open suitcases splayed across the floor, to sit on the edge of the bed. In her arms, Ethan surveyed his surroundings with bright interested eyes.

"I'm leaving." She came right out and said it, like ripping off a bandage, then winced in anticipation of Alex's reaction, guilt already welling up inside.

"Leaving?" Alex repeated dumbly. She couldn't have looked more stunned if she'd been slapped across the face. "When? Where?"

Emily settled next to her on the bed. "Monday," she said softly. "I'm going to London." She offered one finger to Ethan who wrapped his pudgy little hand around it, proceeding to jam it into his mouth. Both of them watched the baby, unable to meet the other's eyes.

"Wh-why?" she stammered, feeling tears building behind her eyes in spite of herself. "Is this because of Agent Easter?"

Emily nodded slowly. "He's offered me a job with Interpol – it's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"In London?" she repeated. "But I... I thought you wanted to go into the Bureau?" She'd thought she'd have time to get used to the idea of Emily moving out, moving on... She'd thought she could continue to mentor her, to keep in touch and spend time together.

"I did..." She shrugged. "I _do_. This is just something I have to do first..." She smiled faintly at Ethan as she tugged her finger, now coated with drool, out of his mouth, popped his soother in in its place before he could protest.

"Oh," Alex said slowly, hating how fragile her voice sounded, but unable to stop its tremble. "O-okay. Do you know when you'll be back? When we'll see you again?"

Emily gestured vaguely. "I'm sorry," she whispered, waves of guilt knocking the air from her lungs.

"What for?" Alex asked gently, resting one hand on Emily's knee.

"I can't be the person you want me to be..."

"Emily, no one wants you to be something you're not," Alex insisted. "We just want... _you_."

She shook her head. "I gave Ethan to you because I knew I couldn't be a good mother, because I was afraid of my influence on him. And I think... I think maybe he'll be better off without me in his life." The words she'd been thinking for so long but couldn't bring herself to say aloud hit the air and shattered like broken glass, raining shards down all over everything.

"Emily, no..." Alex rushed to insist.

"It's better this way," she interrupted, offering a sad smile.

"Well," Alex said softly and it was clear that all she wanted to do was fight this, but she held her tongue because Emily had asked her to. "If that's the way you feel..."

"I'm sorry," she said again, unable to meet Alex's eyes.

"Me too." They were both silent for a long moment, but for Ethan who gurgled and cooed, blissfully unaware. "Before you go, can I take a few pictures of you and Ethan together?" she asked, a desperate last reminder to hold onto.

Emily attempted a laugh, but it came out hollow and pained. "As long as I can have copies."


End file.
